


The Grass Is Always Greener

by AlElizabeth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 92,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlElizabeth/pseuds/AlElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set after Season 5, Episode 22 "Swan Song". Castiel rescues Sam from Hell but Dean finds out that 180 years in the Cage have changed his brother. Will Dean be able to leave hunting behind and take care of his damaged sibling?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this fanfic after writing a scene in 'Torn'. The two stories are not connected.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle just a little bit as he reached across the table and wiped crumbs off his brother's hands with a napkin.

"You almost ready to head out?" Dean asked Sam, not expecting an answer and not receiving one. Sam continued to chew the last mouthful of food slowly and methodically, apparently oblivious to his brother's question.

Dean leaned back in the booth and caught the eye of their waitress. The roadside diner was quiet. Besides Dean and his brother the only other patrons were a couple of long-haul truckers who were sitting at the bar- not paying the Winchester brothers the least bit attention- which Dean counted as a blessing. He still bristled at the memory of the last restaurant he had taken his brother to.

Dean smiled charmingly when the waitress reached their table. Her nametag read 'Peggy'.

"All done here?" Peggy asked after quickly glancing at Sam's empty plate.

"Yes ma'am," Dean answered, "Everything was delicious."

The middle-aged waitress smiled, "Why thank you. I'll pass your compliment onto the cook."

Dean nodded and fished his wallet from the pocket of his jeans.

"Oh no," Peggy held out her hand, "It's on the house."

Dean, who normally would jump at the chance for free food, narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I insist," Dean opened his wallet; almost certain he was being offered their meals free of charge out of sympathy.

"I wouldn't feel right," Peggy pressed and her gaze traveled to Sam, sitting patiently and quietly, and back to Dean, "My sister's got a kid who's special and I know how hard it can be…"

Dean's hackles raised immediately, his expression telling Peggy she should stop talking while she was ahead.

The waitress was quite literally saved by the bell when a famished-looking family of four entered the diner, the bell above the door tinkling merrily as it opened. Peggy turned quickly away from the Winchesters and made a bee-line for the newest patrons, a smile plastered on her face to cover her embarrassment.

Dean sighed and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket without leaving any cash.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said and his brother stood obediently. Dean gave Sam an once-over, brushed some crumbs from his brother's shirt and took hold of his wrist, leading him toward the door. Sam reached out a free hand and trailed his fingers along the backs of the booths as his brother tugged him gently along.

Dean smiled when he saw his baby waiting in the parking lot exactly as he had left her. Her black exterior shone in the pale October sunlight, inviting. Sam even seemed to walk a little faster when he realized where Dean was taking him. Dean imagined that his younger brother did remember the classic Chevy- the car that had held the key to Sam being able to get control over Lucifer and stop the Apocalypse- and smiled even wider at the thought.

Dean made sure his brother was seated comfortably before crossing around the front of the Impala and settling himself into the driver's seat.

"Okay, Sammy," Dean mumbled as started the car's engine, "Ready to hit the road?"

Sam nodded his head but didn't otherwise acknowledge his brother had spoken.

"Can't forget to do up your seatbelt," Dean reached across and pulled Sam's belt over and locked it into place.

Sam peered at his brother for a moment, expression unsure and his fingers pulled a little at the nylon strap across his chest.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean reassured his brother, "It's not gonna hurt you. It's to keep you safe, see?"

Dean demonstrated the benevolence of seatbelts by doing his own up. Sam still looked unconvinced until Dean reached into the backseat and grabbed his leather jacket, spreading it out on his brother's lap as though it were a blanket and Sam seemed to forget all about the seatbelt. Dean smiled sadly as he watched Sam slowly stroke the smooth, sun-warmed leather, a serene expression on his face.

Meat Loaf's 'Rock And Roll Dreams Come Through' blasted from the speakers as Dean pulled out of the parking lot, unabashedly singing along to the music and tapping his hands on the steering wheel in time with the beat.

W

Dean had tried to keep his promise. He really had. But all he could think about was Sam. Lisa was great, she really was and her son was a good kid but Dean's grief prevented him from moving forward. For Dean, it was always that day, the day he had been forced to watch his baby brother take a nosedive into Hell to save a shitty world that didn't know any better.

Dean didn't know how many times he'd called Castiel's cell phone or even prayed to the angel before he finally appeared.

Dean begged the angel to help him, to help Sam. Cas had listened in his intense manner before telling Dean that what he was asking was impossible. Dean had threatened to sell his soul if it would mean resurrecting his brother. Castiel's expression turned sympathetic and he promised Dean he would try to do as he asked.

The months following Dean's request were the most agonizing of his life. He was constantly on edge, waiting for Castiel to call his phone or simply pop into existence with news. Dean drove down to Bobby's place and although the old hunter thought he was crazy for trying to get his brother back, Dean was sure his friend would have done the exact same thing.

Eighteen months passed with no word from Castiel and Dean had begun to think it was a lost cause before the angel called him.

"Dean, I have Sam," Castiel's gravelly tone sounded absolutely wonderful to the eldest Winchester, "We are in Stull Cemetery."

After asking a barrage of questions about his brother- which the angel refused to answer until they met in person- Dean finally asked the most important one: "Why don't you just zap him over here? Why do I have to drive all the way to Kansas?"

There was a pause, "I exerted a great amount of energy to rescue Sam from the Cage. I do not have the strength to transport your brother or myself to Sioux Falls."

Dean was instantly up and moving, already fishing his keys from his jeans pocket, ignoring Bobby's queries and running to where he had parked the Impala in the salvage yard as though that would help him reach his brother sooner.

"Cas, can you-" Dean asked as he slammed the driver's side door shut and turned the key so fast that the engine stalled for a moment.

"I will watch over Sam until you arrive," Castiel finished Dean's question and the Winchester thanked his friend.

The seven hours it took to drive to Lawrence seemed to be the longest of Dean's life. As he pulled through the open gates of the old cemetery, Dean had a horrible feeling of déjà vu and swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat.

It was late afternoon and Dean easily picked out the trench-coat clad figure among the old, crumbling headstones.

Dean didn't even bother turning off the engine or closing his door as he darted past the graves, heart pounding and mouth dry in anticipation of seeing his brother again.

He stopped dead when he saw Sam lying at the angel's feet, curled in on his side.

"No," Dean breathed, fearing the worst and startled when Castiel's voice drifted toward him.

"He is only asleep, Dean."

The angel beckoned Dean forward and the young man practically ran to his brother.

"Sammy!" Dean reached forward to shake his brother's shoulder when Castiel grabbed his wrist.

"We need to talk, Dean," Castiel intoned, his blue eyes grave.

The lump climbed back up Dean's throat and stuck there.

"What's wrong? Is Sam gonna be okay?"

Cas cocked his head as though confused, "He was in Hell for eighteen months, Dean. Do you expect him to be okay?"

Dean sighed and wiped a hand over his face. Eighteen months. Calculating quickly, Dean realized that in Hell-time Sam had been in the Cage for one hundred and eighty years.

"Why did it take you so long to get him?" Dean ignored the angel's question and instead asked one of his own.

"The Cage is designed to keep angels from getting out; do you not think it would also prevent angels from getting in?"

Dean guessed it was a stupid question anyway. Sam was free and that was all that mattered.

"Why don't you just give me the bad news first?" Dean asked.

"I have never understood why humans want bad news and good news in a particular order. You will receive both eventually, so why does it matter?" the angel asked.

"Cas!" Dean snapped, "Just tell me what's wrong with Sam!"

The angel nodded, "Very well. Sam appears to be in decent physical condition, aside from being hungry, which can be easily remedied. It is his mental health, however, that has deteriorated somewhat."

Dean sucked in a deep breath, "Okay, can you be more specific?"

Before Cas could reply though, Sam stirred from his place between them and opened his eyes, blinking blearily.

Dean crouched down in front of his brother and smiled. He wasn't sure what he expected but when his brother wrapped his arms around him, barreling them both over onto the grass, Dean couldn't help but let out a surprised bark of laughter.

Sitting up, Dean held his brother's face in his hands, "I'm missed you so damn much, Sammy."

Sam tightened his hold on Dean, burying his face in his older brother's leather jacket.

Dean blinked back tears as he ran a hand through Sam's long, dark hair.

Dean looked up at Cas and saw the angel watching them. It wasn't creepy though. Castiel was Sam's friend as much as he was Dean's and the eldest Winchester was sure the angel was happy too.

Dean helped pull Sam into a standing position and out of habit began checking his brother for injuries, despite what Castiel had told him.

"Dean," Castiel spoke but the hunter ignored him.

Sam allowed his brother to poke and prod, lift his shirt to inspect his chest and back without his usual complaints.

"Dean," the angel tried again and the eldest Winchester almost glared at him for interrupting.

"What?"

"All is not well with your brother; do you not wish to know this?" The angel asked and Dean shook his head, chagrinned.

"Sam appears to have… digressed somewhat," Cas began and Dean quickly looked to his sibling.

"What's that mean?" Dean's mouth became dry with fear.

"Your brother is no longer the person you knew," Cas continued, "I am not sure if it is a survival mechanism or a result from the torture but Sam's mental faculties have deteriorated."

Dean's mouth dropped open so fast his jaw cracked. Sam was staring intently at him, a smile on his face.

"Sammy," Dean breathed than turned to the angel, "Cas, what does that mean for him?"

Castiel peered at the younger Winchester for a moment as if organizing his thoughts, "He is very vulnerable, Dean. It is unlikely Sam will be able to take care of himself."

Dean nodded, trying to let this all sink in.

"Can't you fix him?" Dean asked the angel tentatively; scared of the answer he would receive.

Castiel shook his head, "I cannot undo Michael and Lucifer's torture… I am not strong enough."

Dean looked pleadingly at the angel for a long moment before a tug at his sleeve caught his attention. Sam was holding onto the cuff of Dean's leather jacket with one hand and softly stroking it with the other.

"You remember this, don't you?" Dean asked and shrugged the coat off, wrapping it around his brother's shoulders.

"I'm sorry I could not be of more help," Cas apologized, tears making his blue eyes even brighter.

Dean shook his head, "You got Sammy out of the Cage and that was an amazing feat in itself. You did exactly what I asked."

Castiel nodded. He wished he could do more though. For Sam, reverse the months of torment he must have suffered at the hands of the archangels. For Dean, give him back the brother he remembered. But such miracles were beyond his skill.

The angel was surprised when Dean grabbed him in a bear-hug. Castiel didn't know how to respond so he just left his arms down by his sides. Dean didn't seem to be offended though, even if Cas did feel slightly awkward.

Dean released the angel and took his brother's hand as though Sam was a child.

"Take care of yourself, Cas," Dean said with a smile.

The angel's brow furrowed. He guessed he should have known the time had come for their final farewells- the world had been saved and it was unlikely Dean would hunt again with his brother in his current condition- but Cas felt the tug of sadness in his heart as he watched his friends.

"Take care of Sam," Cas replied and vanished before his vessel's human emotions could get the better of him.

Dean shook his head good-naturedly and patted his brother's hand.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said, "I know someone who'd really like to see you again."

SPN

Bobby Singer paced around his kitchen, beer bottle untouched in one hand, cell phone in the other.

He had left several voice messages for Dean since the younger man had run out but the he had neglected to answer them. Bobby reckoned it likely that the eldest Winchester hadn't noticed his phone vibrating- had put it on silent or something- but he still worried about the boy when he didn't call back.

"Where the hell are you?" Bobby rumbled and stomped into his living room, peering out through the gauzy curtains covering the front window. Evening was fast approaching, the sky turning crimson and gold on the horizon and shadows growing long.

The familiar rumble of the Impala's engine caused Bobby to sag with relief. Gathering himself together though, the veteran hunter arranged his face into a disapproving frown and opened the screen door, peering out into the darkening yard.

Bobby was glad his boys were back- both of them- but he was ready to chew Dean out for leaving him without so much as a 'see ya later'. He knew he shouldn't be too hard on the younger man though. Yes, he was pissed at Dean but he wasn't sure about Sam. Something in Bobby's gut told him that he had to tread carefully with this one.

Bobby watched as Dean stepped out of the car, closed the door and moved around the front of the Impala to the passenger side. Bobby's brow furrowed, the old hunter trying to figure out if Dean's actions were positive or not. For all Bobby knew, Dean could just be in his usual overprotective mode and Sam was complaining right now about being babied.

Bobby sucked in a deep breath when he saw Dean take his brother's hand and lead Sam toward the house.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted in a weary voice once he and Sam had stepped up onto the porch.

Bobby couldn't help but smile. He opened the screen door and leaned against it to keep it from slamming back against the jamb.

"How was the drive to Lawrence?"

Dean's expression turned embarrassed but he shrugged, "Didn't get pulled over for speeding so I'd say it went well."

Bobby shook his head- he couldn't stay angry at Dean, especially when he just wanted to get to his brother- and turned his attention to Sam.

The boy looked fine, but Bobby knew that didn't matter. It had taken Dean a long time to move forward after he'd returned from Hell, plagued with nightmares and the occasional flashback that took months to dissipate.

"Sammy," Bobby smiled, using Sam's nickname- something he hadn't done in since the youngest Winchester had been a boy- and spread his arms for a hug.

Sam remained where he was, half behind Dean, fingers still laced with his brother's.

"It's okay," Dean shifted slightly so that he was standing right beside his taller sibling, "You remember Bobby, yeah?"

Sam, apparently reluctant to break contact with Dean, continued to grip his hand but inched forward until he was close enough for Bobby to touch. The veteran hunter wrapped both arms- gently- around the younger man's frame. Sam put his free hand on Bobby's back but didn't move again until the older man pulled away.

Something's not a hundred percent, Bobby thought but smiled and pumped Dean's hand when the older brother offered it to him.

"Any chance we could get some dinner?" Dean asked and Bobby nodded, turning toward the kitchen. Both Winchesters followed him inside. Dean leaned against the counter while Sam stood silently beside his brother, watching Bobby intently.

"What're you in the mood for?" the older hunter asked as he opened the refrigerator door.

"You got pizza?" Dean asked, still holding his brother's hand; Bobby noticed.

"Make yourselves at home," Bobby grumbled and rolled his eyes, "You're not strangers here."

Dean pulled two chairs out from the kitchen table, placed them beside one another and he and Sam sat down. Dean released his brother's hand and patted Sam's knee.

"You hungry, Sammy?" Dean asked and Sam looked at him unblinkingly for a moment before nodding.

Bobby pulled a pizza out of the freezer and turned on the oven to preheat. He cracked open a couple of beers and handed one to Dean, holding the second one hesitantly.

"Oh, uh, do you have soda or juice?" The eldest Winchester asked.

Bobby bit his lip and peered into the fridge, his gaze settling on a bottle of Dr. Pepper.

"It's kind of old," Bobby squinted at the expiration date on the cap, "Might have lost its fizz."

"It'll be fine," Dean said in a soft voice, the tone giving the older hunter pause.

Bobby peered at the younger man shrewdly, "You and I are having a long talk later."

Dean nodded, "Yes sir."

Bobby grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured the soda into it before handing it to Dean- the younger man reaching for it- before turning to the oven with it beeped to signal it was warm enough for pizza.

SPN

Dean was conscious of the older hunter watching him as he looked after his brother and even though Bobby was one of their closest friends it was annoying.

"What?" Dean asked his friend as he poured more soda into Sam's glass.

Bobby shrugged, "You want s'more pizza?"

"Sammy, use both hands! Don't want to drop the cup," Dean used his own hand to prop the bottom of the glass Sam was drinking from until his brother lifted his other hand to grip the cup.

Bobby plopped another slice of pizza onto Dean's plate and raised his eyebrows, indicating Sam.

"You want more?" Dean asked and Sam shook his head, still drinking the soda so that the liquid sloshed around inside the glass for a moment.

Dean polished off his pizza quickly, eager to get his brother some rest- and less eager to have a much needed talk with Bobby.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean reached out a hand and pulled Sam into a standing position, "Let's see about getting you set up in the guest bedroom."

Dean paused for a moment, grabbing his own napkin from the table to wipe tomato sauce off his brother's chin.

"There ya go, bro," Dean smiled at his brother, "All the chicks will want your number now."

Dean took hold of his brother's hand once again- because it seemed to comfort Sam- and led him toward the stairs. Sam put his free hand on the banister and trailed his palm over its wooden surface as Dean climbed the steps with him.

Dean heard the front door open and close as Bobby went outside to grab the duffle bags from the Impala- and couldn't help but feel an immense gratitude toward the older hunter- as he stepped up onto the landing with his brother.

"You ready for bed, Sammy?" Dean asked even though it was only seven-thirty in the evening. Sam hadn't gone to bed that early since he was twelve, but Dean needed to talk to Bobby alone and he was sure his brother needed some rest.

Sam looked at his brother from underneath half-lidded eyes and yawned loudly.

"Bobby will be back in a minute with the duffels, kiddo," Dean assured his younger sibling.

Sam peered up at his brother from underneath his long bangs and unlocked his hand from Dean's.

Dean watched as his brother reached out and laid a hand on the wall and stared at the textured wallpaper.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and tried to peer into his eyes. Sam didn't seem distressed or anything but Dean couldn't be too sure. He was making sure to be hyper-aware of Sam's expressions and posture because his younger brother had not spoken at all since Dean had first seen him with Cas in Stull Cemetery.

"Karen picked that out," Bobby's voice startled Dean, "She thought the lilies were pretty. They were her favourite flower."

Sam turned around and gave the grizzled hunter a docile smile.

Dean took his brother's wrist and led him in the direction of the guest bedroom, leaving Bobby with the duffle bags.

"What am I? The butler?" Bobby grumbled but set the luggage down lightly on the bed closest to the door.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said gratefully and watched as the older hunter retreated, giving the Winchesters some privacy.

Dean grabbed his brother's duffel- he hadn't had the heart to remove it from the Impala's trunk after Sam had died- and pulled out a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Alright Sammy," Dean said and paused, unsure of what his next move should be, "How're we gonna do this?"

SPN

Twenty minutes later, Bobby looked up from the Farmers' Almanac he was flipping through to see Dean stomping down the stairs.

"'Bout time," Bobby muttered but he couldn't have cared less how long Dean had taken to get his brother ready for bed.

The grizzled hunter watched as the young man tiptoed into the den to join him. Dean sat down on the couch heavily, breathing a sigh and ran a hand over his chin tiredly.

"Feel like talkin'?" Bobby asked and moved around his desk to lean against it instead, arms crossed over his chest.

Dean slouched forward, arms on his legs and nodded slowly.

Bobby waited patiently, even went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, while Dean organized his thoughts.

SPN

Dean couldn't believe that Cas had managed to rescue his brother! Despite himself Dean had started thinking that maybe the angel was right and Sam would forever be lost.

He couldn't stop smiling at his brother, glancing at Sam every so often as he drove out of the cemetery and down the road.

Even though Dean was elated to have Sam back with him, Castiel's words niggled in the back of his head. Dean knew that his brother wouldn't be the same but that hardly seemed to matter.

We'll get through this, Dean thought; we always managed to come out on top before so why should this time be any different?

Dean's stomach growled hungrily, reminding the hunter that he hadn't eaten anything since before running out of Bobby's house hours earlier.

"I don't know about you, Sammy," Dean crowed, "But I am starving!"

Sam smiled at his brother and Dean's heart swelled with happiness.

W

Dean waited until Lawrence was well in the rearview mirror before looking out for a diner. Dean hadn't wanted to stay in the town for too long if he could help it… all it did was bring up sad memories and besides, he needed to get back to Bobby's with his brother. Dean knew the old salvage yard would be the safest place for Sam.

The first restaurant Dean spied was a few miles outside of Topeka, in the middle of a small village named Morris. The diner itself, called Morris Eats, didn't appear too busy and besides that, Dean's stomach was growing more and more impatient.

Dean parked the Impala and got out, stretching and went around to the passenger side to help his brother.

Sam immediately took Dean's offered hand and refused to let go, even when they stepped inside the diner.

Dean's hunter training took effect and he did a quick sweep of the restaurant- taking note of where the other patrons were sitting and where the exits were- before leading his brother to a booth at the back.

The brothers sat across from one another; Dean peered once again at the other people who were sharing the diner with them and Sam staring at the tabletop.

"You feeling okay, Sammy?" Dean asked his brother, concerned at Sam's silence.

Sam didn't look up but bobbed his head once. He reached a hand out and laid it on the table, lightly patting the surface.

Dean watched his brother for a moment before taking his brother's hand in his. Eyebrows knitting together, Dean tried to get a look at his brother's face.

"Good afternoon," a female voice caused the eldest Winchester to jump in his seat and he let go of his sibling's hand.

"Hi," Dean peered at the waitress.

"My name is Lora," she smiled at Dean and handed him a menu and sat the other one on the table for Sam, "Is there anything I can get you to drink, for starters?"

"Coca-Cola for me," Dean leaned back, feeling more comfortable now the he saw how pretty their waitress was, "And water."

Lora nodded, glancing at Sam quickly, before turning toward the kitchen.

Dean opened his menu and pursued the meal choices. He could really go for a big, juicy burger and was pleased to see that the diner had five different kinds.

He peered over his menu and saw that Sam wasn't looking at his.

"Sam," Dean lowered his menu and put his hand on his brother's, "What's up?"

Castiel's words crept into Dean's mind: Sam's mental faculties have deteriorated. He is very vulnerable... It is unlikely Sam will be able to take care of himself.

Dean took a deep breath and switched seats so that he was right beside his brother.

Sam looked up at him questioningly but Dean smiled, reassuring him.

"What're you hungry for, Sammy?" Dean opened his brother's menu and looked down at the choices.

"Salad?" Dean asked. Sam blinked at him.

"Hmmm, no salad then," Dean tapped a finger on the laminated page, "That's a first."

The eldest Winchester looked up when a loud group of teenage boys entered the diner and took a seat at a table not far from Dean and his brother.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the teens, almost smelling trouble, before turning back to the menu.

Lora returned with their drinks, "Are you ready to order?"

"Can you give us a few more minutes?" Dean asked and gave her a charming smile.

"Sure thing," she returned his smile and tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

"Hey baby! Why don't you come on over here and take our orders!" One of the teenage boys called while the others catcalled.

Lora frowned and Dean peered at the unruly bunch for a moment, "They're regulars?"

The waitress nodded, "The one swimming in his red t-shirt is the owner's son."

Dean cringed in sympathy, "Damn, that's rough."

Lora tapped her pen against her notepad for a moment, "Let me know if they start giving you grief."

Dean nodded and watched carefully as the waitress approached the boys.

A tug on Dean's sleeve returned his attention to his brother.

"Okay Sammy," Dean said, "What'll it be?"

The older brother eyed the menu again, trying to figure out what his brother would eat.

Dean saw that the diner featured a list of a dozen different sandwiches and smiled.

"You feel like a tuna sandwich, Sammy?" Dean asked his brother and Sam blinked at him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dean muttered and returned to his seat across from his brother.

Lora walked back over to the Winchesters and smiled, "Ready to order?"

"Can I get a bacon double cheeseburger and my brother would like a tuna fish sandwich," Dean said and smiled at the waitress.

"Coming right up," Lora smiled at the Winchesters and headed toward the kitchen.

Dean noticed that the teenage boys at the table beside them were staring at his brother.

Sam seemed lost in his own world, staring out the window, one hand on the tabletop.

"See something green?" Dean snapped at the teens and they pointedly looked away, sniggering.

C'mon Sammy, Dean thought; prove Cas wrong, please. For me. I know you're stronger than this.

As if he could hear his brother's thoughts, Sam looked up and smiled at Dean.

"Reeeeee-tard," Dean's eyes flicked immediately to the teens and saw that they all had their noses buried in their menus.

Dean looked quickly at his brother but Sam apparently hadn't noticed the taunting. The older Winchester decided that if it didn't bother Sam than it wouldn't bother him either.

Sam returned his gaze to the table, one hand moving to crumple up his paper napkin while the other slipped down onto his lap.

"Here are your drinks," Lora's voice startled Dean and he thanked the waitress.

Dean sipped at his Coke and watched his brother.

"Sam, drink some water," Dean told his sibling quietly.

W

The meals didn't take long to arrive. Dean's mouth was watering as he breathed in the scent of ground, seasoned beef, toasted bun and melty, gooey cheese. Normally he'd sink his teeth right in but Dean found himself turning his attention from his burger to his brother.

Even Dean had to admit the tuna sandwich looked delicious- then again, it could have just been his hungry stomach talking and that made anything look good- and moved once again to sit right beside his brother instead of across from him.

"C'mon Sammy, you gotta eat something," Dean coaxed, "You've got to be starving."

Dean clearly recalled how hungry he'd been when Castiel had resurrected him and wondered why Sam wasn't eating as fast as he could.

Maybe Sam doesn't like tuna; Dean thought and tried to remember if Sam had any aversion to that particular fish.

Sam looked at Dean, seemingly fascinated by his brother's face, and Dean frowned.

"Sam. Eat." Dean ordered his brother but the younger man didn't react.

"Reeeeee-tard."

Dean turned to glare murderously at the boys, all of whom were preoccupied with their sodas and pointedly not looking at the Winchesters. Dean clenched his hands into fists.

Although Dean knew that he should just ignore the little pricks, he was not going to sit there and let them harass his little brother. Whether Sam realized what they were doing was not the point, Dean knew what the teens were thinking and it pissed him off to no end. Standing up suddenly- startling Sam in the process- Dean took the five or so steps across to the kids' table and casually took his gun from the pocket of his jacket. Making sure that every boy was looking, Dean tapped the barrel on the Formica table.

"I'd really like it if you gentlemen would stop bothering my brother and me," Dean said in a quiet voice.

"Jesus! Is that… that ain't real? Is it?" One of the boys stared bug-eyed at the gun.

Dean just smiled, "Call my brother a retard again and you'll find out."

"Yeah, yeah," the boss's son- shaking in his oversized red shirt- stammered, "Whatever you say, man."

Dean slipped the weapon back into his pocket and turned to Sam. No one else had been interested in a bunch of pesky local kids so no one asked Dean what he was doing with a concealed weapon.

"Guy's crazy!" Dean heard one of the teens hiss as he sat back down in his own seat.

Dean smiled at Sam before peering at his hamburger- so tempting before- and suddenly had no appetite.

Dean looked up and across the diner, searching for the waitress. When he caught sight of Lora he motioned to her and she immediately made a bee-line to the Winchesters' table.

"Is everything okay here?" she asked, a concerned look on her face.

"Can we get the bill, please?" Dean asked even though their meals sat uneaten.

"Okay," Lora answered uncertainly, "Listen, if this is about those kids, I can get the owner-"

Dean shook his head, "Just the bill would be great."

The waitress nodded and walked away. Dean's stomach grumbled a complaint but he ignored it. He gulped down the rest of his soda as he waited impatiently for Lora to return.

Sam smiled blandly at his brother and Dean couldn't help but return the gesture even if he could have felt less like it.

When Lora handed Dean the bill the young man paid for their uneaten food and left the waitress a generous tip.

Standing up, Dean held a hand out to his brother who eagerly accepted. The eldest Winchester heard barely concealed sniggering coming from the group of teenage boys but he decided to ignore it; the little shitheads weren't worth his time anyway.

Dean wrapped a comforting; supportive hand around his brother's and began leading him toward the exit.

"That's right, no retards allowed!" a young, peevish voice called out just as Dean reached the door of the diner and it took all the young hunter's willpower not to turn back and beat the fucking punk to death with his bare hands.

"Don't listen to them, Sammy," Dean muttered to his brother, not even sure if Sam was paying attention or even understood what the teen had said.

Once Sam was comfortably seated in the passenger side of the Impala, Dean rushed to put Morris, Kansas in his rearview mirror and return to the familiarity of Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

SPN

Once Dean had finished telling the old hunter everything that had happened since he had picked his brother up from Lawrence, Bobby sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face.

"And Sam? Did Cas say anything else?" the older hunter wanted to know. It was obvious that the youngest Winchester was damaged but to what extent?

Dean shook his head, "No, he just said that Sammy was gonna need a lot of taking care of. I guess I should have asked him for the specifics, huh?"

Bobby was surprised that Dean hadn't grilled the angel for more information on Sam's condition but couldn't blame the boy; just having his brother back was enough.

Heaving a tired sigh, Bobby swiped his baseball cap off his head and scratched at his hair before replacing the hat, "I guess we'll have to learn on the fly then."

Dean began to nod before he realized what the older man was suggesting, "Oh no, Bobby, no. I can't do that to you. Once I get things sorted out with Sam I'll find us an apartment or something…"

Bobby glowered at the younger man, "You idjit! You and Sam are staying here for as long as you need to."

Dean's shoulders sagged, "It wouldn't be right."

Bobby looked at the hunter as if he really was slow, "And why not? You boys are family, after all."

Dean hesitated a moment before nodding in agreement.

"It's settled then," Bobby added with finality, "You'll live here as long as you need to and, if you really feel so guilty about it, I could always use an extra set of hands when it comes to fixing up the cars."

Dean gulped visibly, "Thanks Bobby… just… thanks."

"Now don't get all mushy with me, Dean Winchester," Bobby said gruffly but smiled from beneath his ruddy beard, "You're not getting free room and board after all."

Dean smiled. Bobby knew the younger hunter enjoyed tinkering with cars and having the brothers close by would give the older man some peace of mind.


	2. Chapter Two

Dean sat at the kitchen table, coffee mug in hand, watching Sam dig into his bowl of Captain Crunch cereal with childlike enthusiasm. Bobby was in the den, talking to a customer on the phone, his own morning coffee sitting precariously on the edge of his desk.

Nearly a fortnight had passed since Dean had agreed to stay at Singer Salvage. At first Dean wasn't sure how much work he'd be able to get done while also keeping an eye on his brother but by now they had slipped into a steady routine.

Dean stuck pretty close to the junk yard. If they needed parts for a car, Bobby was the one who went into town to fetch them- saying that he knew the folks at the local shops better than the eldest Winchester anyway- without complaint. Sam rarely left Dean's side, even when his brother was working on cars. Dean didn't mind. He liked knowing exactly where his little brother was, his protective instincts ratcheting up into overdrive every time he remembered Cas' words.

Dean looked up at Bobby as the older man set the phone down in its cradle and entered the kitchen, sipping his coffee as he walked.

"Some drunk teen totaled his parents' car," Bobby said before Dean even asked, "I've gotta tow the vehicle so I'll probably be an hour or so."

Dean nodded, "Sam and I can hold down the fort, can't we Sammy?"

His brother looked up from his cereal and smiled.

Bobby just shook his head, "You know the drill."

Dean smirked, "No parties and don't answer the door to strangers."

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Smartass."

Draining his coffee cup, the veteran hunter set the mug in the kitchen sink and took his leave. Dean listened to the throaty rumble of Bobby's old tow truck grow distant as he pulled down the driveway and onto the road.

The eldest Winchester topped up his own coffee with what was left in the pot and sat back down once again across from his brother. Sam was slowly but steadily munching away on his cereal.

"Wanna watch some TV, buddy?" Dean asked and Sam lifted his gaze for a moment before looking back down at his soggy bowl of Captain Crunch.

Sam set his hand holding the spoon on the table and peered curiously at his breakfast.

"You finished?" Dean asked, reaching out to take the bowl. Sam shook his head frantically and pulled the cereal closer to himself.

Dean sat back, calmly, and continued drinking his coffee. Sam slurped noisily at the milk in the bowl, happy again.

Tapping one foot on the scuffed linoleum floor, Dean exhaled slowly, having found a wellspring of patience for his brother ever since Sam had been rescued from Hell.

As soon as Sam finished eating- his spoon scraping against the empty bowl- Dean grabbed the dish and carefully pried the utensil from his brother's hand.

"Okay Sammy," Dean announced, "TV time."

Sam followed his brother obediently as he walked into the living room, sitting down at one end of the couch heavily. Dean grabbed the television remote control and jabbed the ON button. Dean smiled when a cartoon started playing and set the remote on the coffee table. Sam pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, watching the talking yellow sponge skip across the screen as though it was the most interesting thing on TV. Dean shook his head and went over to Bobby's desk, sitting down on the wooden swivel chair and pulling the laptop- Sam's laptop- towards him.

Every morning, for the first hour his brother watched television, Dean searched online newspaper reports for any sign of supernatural activity. Although Dean hadn't been hunting since Sam took the plunge, he liked to tell himself that he should remain aware of what was out there, stay in the know. Whenever Dean happened upon a strange article he would tell Bobby and see what the veteran hunter thought, decide if there was actually a case worth pursuing. If Bobby believed that there was something serious going on, he would call one or more of his friends to take care of the trouble.

After thirty-five minutes of pursuing the online news, Dean sighed and glanced across the living room at his brother. Sam was still sitting with his knees drawn up but now his eyebrows were pinched together as though he was troubled by something.

Closing the laptop without bothering to shut it down, Dean walked over to the couch and sat down beside Sam.

"What's up, buddy?" Dean asked, glancing at the TV screen from the corner of his eye.

Taking Sam's face in his hands, Dean turned his brother's head so he was looking at him.

"What's wrong? C'mon, talk to me," Dean entreated, hoping that he brother would speak. Since Castiel had rescued him from Hell, Sam had not said a single word, had not made a sound and Dean was really starting to miss his little brother's voice.

Sam's eyes were confused as if he couldn't quite figure out what Dean wanted from him. Resignedly, Dean removed his hands from Sam's face and leaned forward, grabbing the TV remote and jabbing the OFF button. Leaning back against the couch cushions, Dean raised an arm and wrapped it around Sam's shoulders, drawing his brother closer to his side.

"Bobby should be home soon," Dean told his brother, not really in the mood to watch whatever crap was on TV this morning. Sam didn't complain about the change in routine. He just stared at the blank television screen and fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

SPN

Bobby Singer drove slowly away from his salvage yard, his thoughts on the two boys who now called it home.

Even though two weeks had already passed since Castiel had brought Sam back the young man didn't appear to be getting any better. Bobby wasn't stupid; he had told himself it was more than likely that it would take a great deal of time for Sam to recover from whatever the archangels had done to him- if he even recovered at all. Bobby hated seeing Sam so helpless, so quiet and wished there was something he could do to help him. Dean had become even more protective of his brother than Bobby had even seen him before, taking his responsibility so far as to often shut out the older hunter whenever he tried to help. Bobby didn't really blame Dean for acting like everything- including him- was a threat to Sam. He just wished that the eldest Winchester would let him take on some of the burden some of the time.

Bobby grimaced. Sam wasn't a burden. He was a good kid, always had been and always would be but Bobby could see that the constant care that he needed was soon going to drive his brother into the ground.

The grizzled hunter sighed and pulled his grimy baseball cap off, scratching his head with one hand while steering this truck with the other.

"Damn idjit's too stubborn for his own good," he muttered out loud. Dean would wait until he made himself sick before asking Bobby for assistance.

Replacing the cap back on his thinning hair, Bobby glanced through the smeary windshield as the early morning sun cast its rays almost eye-level with the hunter.

SPN

Dean looked up when Bobby stepped inside. He had heard the low coughing rumble of the older hunter's pickup as Bobby had driven in but Dean hadn't moved; Sam was sleeping and he didn't want to wake him.

Bobby's hardened face softened at the sight of the younger Winchester.

Dean brushed his brother's bangs away from his brow and Sam's eyes opened slowly.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said softly, "Bobby's home."

The younger man looked at his brother for a moment, smiled and then turned to Bobby when Dean pointed.

"How you doin' son?" Bobby asked, knowing full-well he'd receive no answer but he couldn't help himself.

Sam favoured him with a wide, dimpled smile and turned back to his brother. Dean gave Sam a thumbs-up and focused his attention on the aged hunter.

"What's the car look like?" he asked, making no move to get up off the couch.

"Front end's crumpled up something awful," Bobby explained, "Gonna need new headlights, new bumper… see if we can't hammer out the dents."

Dean nodded. It sounded like they might be working on the car for a few days, maybe even a week. Not that he minded much, Dean liked the work and he was able to keep his brother close while he did so.

"You want a beer or something?" Bobby asked even though it was early.

Dean shook his head but looked at his brother, "You want something to drink, Sammy?"

The younger man tilted his head a moment and then ducked his chin. Dean shrugged.

"I think I'll take Sam outside and go check out this car," he suggested instead and Bobby chuckled, "Suit yourself."

Standing and stretching, Dean looked expectantly at his brother.

Sam hesitated for a second before standing and following Dean out to the front hall. He waited patiently while Dean slipped his boots on and laced them up.

"Okay," Dean stated, "Your turn."

The older Winchester grabbed his brother's sneakers and Sam immediately lifted one foot. Dean guided his younger sibling's foot into the shoe and tied the laces, repeating the process for the other one.

Dean debated getting a coat on Sam but then decided it might be overkill.

Reaching past his brother, Dean opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. It was still fairly early, not even eleven thirty yet but he could already tell that the day was going to be a scorcher.

Sam followed his brother, gazing mildly at the scrap cars sitting around the yard.

"Let's go check out the damage," Dean muttered- more to himself than his brother- and took hold of his Sam's hand in his own.

Normally Dean would have refused to do something so girly as take his brother's hand- if Sam had had full use of his faculties- but now he could have cared less. The physical contact seemed to calm Sam and it allowed Dean to keep a close- very close- eye on his sibling.

The teen's damaged car was sitting up on cinderblocks, the sunlight glaring against the crumpled front end.

"This is going to take a while, Sammy," Dean told his brother, "But we've got time? Right?"

Sam glanced at his brother and graced him with a smile. Dean grinned back.

The eldest Winchester's smile faded quickly, "Yeah, we've got all the time in the world."

SPN

Bobby kept his distance from the Winchesters. He didn't really mind; he had some research to do anyway and the quiet in the house was nice.

Dean only made an appearance once, ducking inside to grab his coat without so much as glancing into the den where Bobby worked, not wanting to leave Sam alone for very long.

At around noon hour the grizzled hunter called it quits. His eyes were sore from reading- he wasn't as young as he used to be, able to scan book for hours without a break- and his stomach was rumbling noisily.

Standing up and stretching out his back, Bobby decided that lunch was a good idea.

W

Bobby pushed open the screen door with his back, his arms full of an old TV tray and turned around so he faced his yard. He could hear the faint chords of rock music and a steady hammering coming from his garage.

The first Winchester he saw as he came down the porch steps was Sam. He was sitting on Bobby's old tartan blanket just outside of the garage door, Dean's leather jacket in his lap and a contented expression on his face.

Bobby smiled. Sam was happy as long as he was close to Dean.

"Hey son," he said as he walked towards the young man, "Is your brother ever going to come up for air?"

Sam just smiled at the older man and Bobby chuckled. He set the tray of food down on the car's undamaged trunk and entered the garage.

Dean was bent over underneath the car's open hood, a wrench in one hand as he struggled with a particularly stubborn piece of equipment.

"It ain't gonna come out if ya keep reefing on it like that," Bobby remarked and the younger man looked up.

"Hey Bobby," he said tiredly and wiped his hands off on the rag he'd stuffed into his back pocket.

"Figgered you boys would want something to eat," he commented. For a second Dean looked confused and he glanced at his watch.

"Shit!" Dean exclaimed.

"You've been out here for hours," Bobby confirmed and Dean sighed, running a slightly grimy hand through his hair, "I didn't even check the time… Is Sam-"

The veteran hunter nodded, "Yer brother's still here. Quiet as a church mouse."

Dean shook his head, a somewhat guilty look on his face. Bobby didn't say anything though, he knew that Dean's brother wouldn't go anywhere without him.

Stepping into the sunlight outside of the garage, Dean squinted a little before crouching down in front of Sam.

"Hey Sammy," he murmured and brushed the younger man's bangs away from his eyes, "How you doing?"

Sam looked up at his older sibling and smiled. He was fine.

Dean stood up and accepted the glass of lemonade Bobby handed to him.

"Wipe that look off yer face," the older man snapped playfully and Dean sighed.

"I got carried away with that damn car," he muttered, "I completely forgot Sam."

"He forgives you," Bobby said, looking down at where the young man sat, absentmindedly stroking the soft, worn leather of Dean's coat.

Dean's gaze fell on his brother and his guilty expression softened.

"You're doing the best you can, Dean," Bobby said, "A great job as far as I can tell. You barely take your eyes off Sam for a minute."

"Yeah," Dean murmured and took a sip of lemonade.

Bobby frowned but decided to change the subject, "I don't know about you but I could eat a horse."

As he spoke, the older man picked up one of the sandwiches he had made- roast beef and mustard- and bit into it.

"You should eat something if you're gonna stay outside in this heat," Bobby mumbled around the mouthful of bread and meat, "And Sam too."

Dean nodded, handed Bobby his glass and grabbed one of the sandwiches- ham and cheese- and crouched down in front of his brother.

"You hungry, Sammy?" Dean asked. Sam looked up at his brother and the offered sandwich. The younger man smiled and used both hands to take the sandwich Dean held out to him. One corner of Dean's mouth lifted and he ruffled his brother's hair- an old habit that had become more and more regular over the past weeks since Sam's rescue- before picking out his own sandwich.

Bobby leaned against the back bumper of the car while Dean took a seat beside Sam.

For a few moments there were no sounds among the three men except for that of steady chewing.

The eldest Winchester stood up, shoving the last piece of sandwich into his mouth and brushing off his hands, "That was great, Bobby. Thanks."

The veteran hunter stopped mid-chew and stared at Dean. He knew when he was being pushed aside.

"There's more sandwiches," he rumbled and grabbed a second one from the plate on the tray.

Dean shook his head, "I'm pretty full."

Bobby narrowed his eyes; he knew that boy could eat like a horse and one sandwich sure as hell wasn't going to fill him.

"It's a nice day," Bobby said casually, pulling the crust off the bread in his hands, "I thought I'd stay out for a while… maybe help you out with the car."

Dean shook his head, "I've got it. Besides, Sammy keeps me company."

Bobby frowned and put the remains of his sandwich back on the plate, "I'm getting really tired of being avoided just 'cause you think I can't look after your brother."

Dean narrowed his eyes at the older man, "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to! You keep Sam with you twenty-four/seven, you barely leave him alone for a minute-" Bobby began but Dean interrupted, "He could get hurt!"

"Son, it's been two weeks and I can already tell this isn't going to go well!" Bobby pleaded, "I been taking care of you and your brother since your Daddy left you two on my porch all those years ago. I know you want to protect Sam but you don't need to protect him from me! If you keep doing this Dean, you'll make yourself sick and then what go will that do for Sam?"

Dean paused as though mulling over Bobby's words. The older hunter didn't expect what the young man said next. He thought Dean was going to chew him out for being so brash as to believe he could take care of Sam.

"It… It's my fault he's like this, Bobby," Dean muttered quietly. He wasn't looking at the older hunter but at his brother.

Sam, seeming to recognize the tension between the two men, had stopped eating and was staring up at his older brother with confused and slightly frightened eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby asked, dumbfounded.

"I was the one that gave him the go-ahead to take the swan dive," Dean answered, a little more steadily than before, "I said that if that was what he wa-wanted…"

"Dean… you didn't know-" Bobby tried to assuage some guilt from the younger man but Dean wasn't having it.

"I didn't know!? That's bullshit and we both know it!" Dean snapped, not really angry at Bobby, "I was in Hell, Bobby! How could I not know what was going to happen to Sam!?"

The older man didn't reply. He took off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his thinning hair, "You weren't the one who tortured him."

Dean opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. His face blanched and he shook his head.

Before Bobby could say anything more, Dean turned away and nearly ran back towards the house, leaving his friend and brother staring after him.

"Balls," Bobby muttered and looked down at Sam.

The young man was clearly still agitated so Bobby hunkered down in front of him.

Reaching out, Bobby placed a calloused hand on Sam's shoulder, "It's alright, son."

Sam blinked at Bobby and stared at him for a long moment before he started eating agan.

Bobby sat down beside him and sighed.

"You don't blame Dean, do ya?"

Sam continued munching away on his sandwich and said nothing.

SPN

Dean knew that Bobby had a point but he just couldn't help but feel guilty. All his life he'd been told to protect his brother no matter what and he'd just let Sam decide to sacrifice himself for the shitty ball of dirt called Earth without really thinking about it.

Dean hadn't even suggested trying to find another way to beat Lucifer.

No, he'd just sat back and made jokes while Sam was planning on damning himself for all eternity.

Dean rummaged around in the fridge and found a bottle of beer. He twisted the cap off and guzzled down the alcohol.

Dean had failed his brother so badly that he was sure he deserved this. Taking care of Sam was now his penance for his mistakes. Sam was unable to look after himself- and Dean had a feeling he'd ever be able to again- so Dean had to help him through life… for the rest of his life. Dean had done this to his brother. He might not have been the one to torture Sam but he certainly didn't try and stop him either.

Dean finished his beer and put the empty on the counter. He pawed through Bobby's liquor cabinet above the stove until he found a mostly-full bottle of Jack Daniels.

Not even bothering with a glass, Dean threw the cap across the room and brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips.

Dean wished he could go back in time and tell Sam not to go through with his idea. Dean wished he would open his mouth and assure his baby brother that there was another way, that there had to be. Dean wondered why he'd been so calm about Sam's proposal in the first place. What had he been thinking? That it was Sam's mess and therefore his to clean up anyway he saw fit? No!

Although Sam had killed Lilith and released Lucifer from his Cage; he wasn't the only guilty party. Dean had broken the first Seal. Even though he did not know what he had been doing at the time, it was really he who had started the Apocalypse.

Dean chugged down the alcohol as fast as he could. He didn't want to feel like this anymore. He just wanted to be numb.

So why had he been so keen on laying the blame on Sam? Because Sam was an easy scapegoat. Because Sam blamed himself. Because Sam had made mistakes in the past and what was one more to pile on top of the heap.

Dean stumbled over to the kitchen table and sat down. He set the bottle onto the tabletop and put his head in his hands.

It was all his fault. Everything. And Sam had been the one to pay the price.

Dean laid his head on the table's cool surface and closed his eyes.

What would his father say if he could see his oldest son now? What would his mother say if she could see her little boy?

Dean put his hand over his face, his elbow knocking the bottle of Jack onto the floor where it shattered, and started to cry.

The days and weeks and months and years seemed to stretch out before Dean, filled with nothing but guilt-ridden thoughts and Bobby's sympathetic generosity and Sam's bland yet trusting gaze.

And it was all Dean's fault. It was nothing more than he deserved. Because he had let his brother take the plunge, had chosen to disregard the consequences of his actions and allow his brother to suffer.

Dean was fast asleep by the time his brother and Bobby came back inside, troubled by dreams replaying Sam's leap into the Cage. Over and over and over again, mocking him, reminding him that he was a failure as a brother.


	3. Chapter Three

Dean leaned over and kissed Sam on the head- something he hadn't done since his brother had been little- and turned out the bedside lamp.

"I'll be up in a little bit, okay?" Dean asked, knowing that Sam wouldn't answer.

The older Winchester could make out the large form of his brother as he sat up with his back against the headboard. Sam would sit for a while before finally succumbing to sleep and lay down with the blankets pulled up to his chin just like a little kid.

Dean sighed and turned away when he didn't receive a response. He was exhausted. It had been three weeks since his breakdown in Bobby's kitchen and he had been determined not to have a repeat performance. When the grizzled hunter had shaken him awake about a half-hour after he'd passed out, his upper-body sprawled out on the tabletop, he had been embarrassed that Bobby had had to find him like that. Sam stood in the kitchen doorway; moving anxiously from one foot to the other, clearly upset and that had only made Dean feel like even more of a douche.

Sam- bless him- had gotten over the excitement fairly quickly and was as calm and happy as he usually was.

Bobby, however, hadn't been so easily placated and had given Dean a sound tongue-lashing once Sam was out of earshot. After having the veteran hunter bite his head off, Dean had been subjected to yet another round of Bobby's insistence that he wasn't too old to take care of Sam if Dean ever needed a break, even if it was only for a few hours to go into town and catch a movie or visit a bar. Dean had assured Bobby that he would think about it but he had no intentions of leaving Sam.

Both of the older hunters knew that Dean was fibbing but neither mentioned it.

W

Dean made his way down the creaky staircase, wiping a hand wearily down his face before entering the kitchen and taking a beer from the fridge.

"Did he go to sleep?" Bobby's voice asked from behind an open newspaper. He was seated at his usually spot at the kitchen table, reading the local rag and sipping a late cup of coffee.

"Naw," Dean answered, "But he will soon."

Bobby nodded and continued reading.

Dean opened his bottle of beer and guzzled down half its contents.

"What's the matter with you?" Bobby asked, peering at Dean from over his paper.

"Just tired," Dean muttered and glared at the older hunter when Bobby gave him a pointed look.

"I'm fine," the younger man corrected, "Don't even say it."

"Alright," Bobby shrugged and turned back to the newspaper.

Dean sat down on the couch and grabbed the TV remote, pressed the ON button. The television came to life and a cartoon started playing. Dean changed the channel, looking for something that wasn't so juvenile.

The eldest Winchester settled on a local news station and idly took in the sports stats, making a note of the weather for the next several days and finished with the local doom and gloom report of the day.

"….Is closing its doors to the public until the investigation is complete. Police Lieutenant Jameson assures the general population is in no danger and that a suspect is in custody-"

The television suddenly went black and Dean scowled, "Hey!"

Bobby raised an eyebrow, holding onto the TV remote.

"Good to bed, Dean," the older hunter said.

"I'm not ready to sleep," the young man replied and reached for the remote. Bobby pulled his hand back, keeping the remote out of Dean's reach.

"It's one AM," he claimed. Dean frowned. Was it really that late? His gaze traveled past Bobby to the sunburst clock on the wall of the kitchen and saw that the veteran hunter was not lying.

"You've been watching the news over and over for two hours," Bobby told him and Dean sighed, standing slowly.

"Okay," he muttered, "You win old man."

Bobby smirked as he watched Dean take the stairs.

W

Dean hadn't realized how exhausted he was until he reached the landing. His eyes itched and slid to half-mast. He shuffled into the bathroom and brushed his teeth on autopilot.

Walking down the hall towards the guest bedroom he shared with his brother, Dean noticed that the lights were on downstairs- Bobby was still up- but decided not to bother with it tonight.

Dean pushed the bedroom door open and the light from the hallway illuminated his brother. Sam was sitting up in his bed, a confused expression on his face.

"Sammy!" Dean hurried forward, flicking on the light switch on the wall beside the doorframe. Sam turned to look at him but his expression didn't change.

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, "Sammy? You should be asleep by now."

The older brother reached up and held Sam's face between his hands, "What's wrong, buddy? Huh?"

Sam, of course, did not answer. Dean wished his brother would speak, tell him what was troubling him.

Dean watched as Sam's expression turned from one of confusion to one of fright.

"Hey, hey," Dean murmured, "It's okay, Sammy, it's alright."

Maybe he had a nightmare or something, Dean thought and guided his brother's head with his hands until Sam's cheek rested against his chest. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's torso tightly, as if holding on for dear life.

Dean felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He didn't know what to do. Sam couldn't tell him what was scaring him and Dean wasn't a mind-reader. Hugging Sam back, Dean murmured comfortingly to his sibling.

"You're safe, Sammy, you are. It's okay, I'm right here."

Dean sat back against the headboard and closed his eyes, continuing to whisper to his brother. He raised one hand and ran his fingers through Sam's long hair.

"Shhh," Dean murmured, "Just close your eyes and rest, Sammy."

Within moments both Winchesters were fast asleep; Sam comforted by his brother's presence and Dean too exhausted to move to his own bed.

SPN

Bobby poured Sam a bowl of Captain Crunch and added milk. The youngest Winchester had come downstairs five minutes ago without his brother and Bobby had an idea that Dean was still sawing logs upstairs.

Sam smiled at the old hunter as Bobby set the bowl and a spoon in front of him.

The grizzled hunter took a seat across from the young man, a mug of coffee in his hands.

"Have a good night's sleep, son?"

Sam didn't answer; he picked up his spoon and began eating.

Bobby's gaze traveled to the ceiling, "Yer brother never liked gettin' up before ten."

Sam continued eating.

"But the early bird gets the worm, eh?" Bobby chuckled and gulped down some coffee.

The grizzled hunter watched Sam enjoying his breakfast, thinking about the past few weeks.

Dean had yet to realize that he was going to hurt both himself and his brother if he continued on the way he was. Bobby wished that the young man would not be so stubborn and listen to him. Bobby saw Dean tiring everyday and knew it was only a matter of time before the young man ran himself into the ground.

"Have any plans today?" Bobby asked Sam.

The younger man looked up and smiled before turning his attention back to his cereal.

"Yer fine, aren't you Sam?" Bobby asked, "I looked after you and yer brother when y'all were but mites and I remember a thing or two."

The grizzled hunter looked up at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs and smiled as Dean wandered into the kitchen.

"Mornin' son," Bobby greeted and Dean yawned widely.

"Get me some coffee," he muttered sleepily, "I'll get Sammy some-"

Bobby motioned to the youngest Winchester, happily munching away on his Captain Crunch. Dean raised an eyebrow as though surprised.

"You think I'd let Sam starve until you decided to yer lazy ass outta bed?" the veteran hunter asked sarcastically.

Dean smiled somewhat sheepishly, "Thanks Bobby."

The older hunter nodded, "I ain't too old I can't take care of your brother some of the time, Dean."

The young man sighed.

"Okay, okay," Dean raised his hands in exasperation, "If you stop going on about it, you can look Sammy. Will that make you happy?"

Bobby smiled through his ruddy beard, "Was that so hard?"

Dean scowled and grabbed the coffee pot. He watched his brother for a moment as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Bobby, ever the vigilant hunter, was at Sam's side as soon as the young man was finished eating, taking the spoon from his fisted hand and scooping up the empty bowl and carrying them to the sink.

Dean sat down beside his brother and blew on the hot coffee in his mug for a moment before taking a sip.

"You want anything, Dean?" Bobby asked and was surprised when the younger man shook his head. Dean never turned down food.

The veteran hunter jumped when one of his many phones began ringing incessantly and he sighed. Grabbing the phone from the wall he listened grumpily as a rookie hunter down in Florida asked him about the best way to get rid of a Chupacabra.

When Bobby turned around, setting the phone back in its cradle, both Sam and Dean had left the kitchen. The old hunter sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

SPN

Dean helped Sam with his shoes and grabbed his brother's coat, slipping out the door while Bobby was still tied up with whomever was on the phone. Dean stopped on the edge of the porch and leaned his elbows against the railing. He breathed in deeply and sighed. Sam stood close beside him, staring blandly out at the yard.

"What do you think, Sammy?" Dean asked, "Do you think Bobby's up to watching you sometimes?"

The younger man did not answer. Dean reached out and turned Sam's head to face him by gripping his brother's chin gently.

Sam smiled at his older sibling and Dean nodded. That was it, then.

"C'mon, let's go for a walk," the eldest Winchester said and took his brother's hand.

W

Dean stared at the front page of the local newspaper and scrubbed a hand down his face.

Another three weeks had passed since Dean told Bobby he would let the veteran hunter look after Sam but the eldest Winchester was not keeping his word. Dean still rarely left left Sam alone, even when Bobby was close by. Dean didn't feel guilty about it, either. He still felt Sam was his responsibility and his alone; it was his job to take care of Sammy. Bobby hadn't been the one to let Sam take the swan dive into Hell. Bobby had tried to talk the youngest Winchester out of his insane plan. Dean hadn't said a word.

The eldest Winchester gulped down a mouthful of burning coffee and squinted at the newspaper again.

Two children were missing from a nearby village called Davidston and the State police had no leads in the disappearances.

Dean had been growing more and more restless since Cas had rescued Sammy and he was becoming tired of it. He missed hunting, truly. He missed being able to save people. He missed being the hero.

Dean drummed his fingers irritably against the kitchen table, thinking. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to stay close to his brother but he also itched to go hunting again.

Before Dean could make up his mind, Bobby stomped down the stairs and poked his head into the kitchen.

"Reading the funnies?" the older hunter asked and Dean gave him his best shit-eating grin, folding the paper up so Bobby couldn't see what he'd really been looking at.

"Yeah, old man," he commented, "This week's Dilbert is hilarious."

Bobby rolled his eyes and made a bee-line for the coffee maker.

"Sam still asleep?"

Dean nodded, "I didn't want to wake him up."

Bobby sipped at his coffee, expression sympathetic. The youngest Winchester had had trouble falling asleep the night before. Dean had sat up with his brother for over two hours before Sam finally closed his eyes.

Dean sat back and stretched.

"What've you got planned for today?"

Bobby shrugged, "Gotta do some research for a hunter away in Rhode Island but other than that nothing's written in stone."

Dean nodded, maybe he could still take a quick trip to Davidston. It would give Bobby a chance to look after Sam by himself and it would allow Dean to continue saving the lives of innocent civilians.

W

Dean crept down the stairs, his duffel bag over his shoulder. It was dark in the house, not even dawn yet and both Sam and Bobby were still asleep.

Dean hesitated at the door, not sure now if he should leave.

Then he thought about those two little children who were missing and perhaps in the clutches of a monster.

Bobby would look after Sam. Besides, Dean wasn't going to be gone for long, a day or two at the most.

Turning the doorknob, Dean slipped outside and into the cool morning air.

SPN

Bobby scratched tiredly at his beard as he walked down the stairs, looking forward to a nice, strong coffee. The brothers' door was closed as he passed it and he guessed that Dean and Sam were sleeping in a bit.

The veteran hunter shuffled into the kitchen and prepared the coffee maker. Leaning against the counter as he waited for the coffee, Bobby peered casually out the window above the sink. The Impala wasn't parked where it should be.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Bobby leaned forward, swearing out loud. Rushing to the front door, he stepped out onto the porch and knew without a doubt that either one of both Winchesters were gone.

"Balls," Bobby grumbled, his coffee momentarily forgotten, and stomped upstairs.

Opening the bedroom door, Bobby peered inside, hoping that he would be wrong and both Winchesters would be sleeping away. Only Sam was in bed, lying curled up snuggly on his side, eyes closed and a placid expression on his face.

Swearing once more, the veteran hunter closed the door softly and stood in the hall for a moment, wondering what he was going to do.

Taking the steps two at a time, Bobby headed back down to the kitchen and picked up his main phone, dialling Dean's cell number.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" Bobby almost snarled at the young man.

"The highway," Dean said vaguely.

"Why?" Bobby asked irritably.

"I think there's a hunt in Davidston," the younger hunter answered.

"Mmhm," the veteran hunter replied, unimpressed.

"Bobby, you said you wanted to look after Sammy by yourself," Dean snivelled, "Now's your chance."

The older hunter sighed, "Alright Dean, do what you have to do and then get yer ass back here."

"You know I will," the eldest Winchester replied and ended the call.

Bobby hung the phone back up in its cradle and ran a hand through his hair. He hoped Dean knew what he was doing.

W

Bobby paced anxiously around the kitchen with a cup of coffee cooling in his hands. He had no idea how Sam was going to take his brother's disappearance. Bobby sighed and decided that he should get Sam up. Setting his mug down, Bobby climbed the stairs, hoping that Sam would be alright with him taking on Dean's responsibilities for what could be the next couple of days.

Opening the door carefully, Bobby took a deep breath and pasted a smile on his face.

"Sam, son," he called, stepping close to the bed.

The young man opened his green eyes, smiling and peered up at Bobby. The veteran hunter's brow furrowed in concern when Sam frowned.

"Ya'll okay, son?" the veteran hunter asked and crouched down so he wasn't standing over the young man.

Sam sat up and rubbed at his eyes with his fists, like a little boy.

"Did you have a good sleep?" Bobby asked, still smiling, feeling slightly better when the young man returned the gesture.

I can do this, the veteran hunter thought, if Dean can; I can.

W

It started going downhill when the Bobby and Sam went downstairs. The younger man didn't immediately go to the kitchen- as he did every morning- but stood in front of the stairs, looking decidedly lost.

"Sam? What's wrong?" Bobby asked even as he realized that the young man knew that his brother was not in the house.

Bobby reached out and took hold of the young man's elbow, "You want some breakfast?"

Sam remained as still as rock.

Bobby tugged on his friend's arm, "C'mon son, you hungry?"

Sam didn't even look at him. Instead of following Bobby into the kitchen, he walked stiffly into the den, staring out the front bay window.

"Sam? C'mere," Bobby called to the young man, his heart breaking at the boy's distress.

The only thing that mattered in Sam's world was Dean and Dean was now gone. Bobby may as well have been invisible.

Turning around, the veteran hunter walked back into the kitchen and prepared Sam's usual breakfast of Captain Crunch cereal.

Bobby brought the bowl and spoon out to the young man but Sam didn't even look at him.

"Sam, ya gotta eat," the older man pressed gently, holding the bowl up.

Sam's gaze remained fixed on the empty space past the window where the Impala should be parked.

Sighing, Bobby set the bowl down on his desk and gripped Sam's shoulder.

"He'll be back, son," he murmured, not completely sure Sam could understand him, "Dean hasn't left ya for good."

Sam looked away from the window, his eyebrows knitted together and a frown on his face. The young man's eyes were red-rimmed and brimming with tears.

"Sammy?" Bobby asked, calling the young man by the nickname he hadn't uttered since the youngest Winchester was a child.

Head lowered, Sam moved away from the window and began to pace around the den, hands dangling limply at his sides.

Bobby watched for a long moment.

"I'm gonna kill Dean," Bobby growled.

W

Sam paced until late into the afternoon before he finally stopped. Bobby looked up from the book he was reading at his desk, hopefully. He wanted Sam to eat something; the young man was probably starving by now.

Instead of walking into the kitchen, Sam shuffled over to the couch and laid down on his side, facing the window.

"Sam? You want some lunch?" Bobby asked, getting up and making his way towards the young man.

The veteran hunter rushed to Sam's side when he saw tears begin to trail down his face silently.

"Oh, son," Bobby murmured and sat down at the arm of the couch, reaching over to squeeze Sam's shoulder.

The veteran hunter could see that he was not getting through to the young man and so he stood, raked a hand through his hair and stomped into the kitchen.

Grabbing the phone, he quickly dialled Dean's number and waited for his friend to pick up.

"Agent Neil here."

"Get yer ass back here now," Bobby snapped, gritting his teeth.

"What's wrong?!" Dean asked, his professional facade instantly dropping away.

"Sam's beside himself 'cause yer not with him," the veteran hunter told him acidly.

"He… he is?" Dean stammered, his tone unsure.

"Spent most of the morning staring out the window with that kicked puppy expression of his," Bobby said, "He just now is lying on the couch… crying."

"Shit," Dean breathed and sighed, "But… Bobby… I think there's a Rawhead here."

"Than I'll get someone on it as soon as you come back!"

"But…" Dean began but the older man interrupted him, "Yer brother needs you, Dean."

There was silence on the other end of the line and Bobby wondered why it was taking the young man so long to decide what to do.

"I'll be back in four hours," Dean replied and Bobby ended the call.

W

Bobby went back to Sam, smiling happily at him.

"Dean's coming back, son," he told the young man.

Sam's expression didn't change.

"He'll be here soon," Bobby continued.

Sam didn't look at him.

Bobby glanced up at the window as though expecting to see Dean's old Chevy pull into his driveway.

"You wanna eat something, son?"

The veteran hunter received no reply.

Sighing, Bobby settled back down behind his desk, watching the younger man sadly.

He hoped Dean returned as soon as possible.

W

Bobby glanced worriedly at the clock in the kitchen. Dean should have arrived an hour ago.

Sam had not moved from the couch. He remained curled up, unresponsive to Bobby as though he was the only one in the house.

This has to end now, the grizzled hunter thought and reached for his telephone.

Before Bobby could touch the phone however, it rang shrilly, startling him.

"Yeah? Who's this?" He asked, hoping that it was Dean calling to say that he was twenty minutes away.

"Is this Robert Singer?" An unfamiliar female voice asked and Bobby's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes, it is. How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but Dean Winchester has been involved in a serious car accident."


	4. Chapter Four

Bobby listened numbly as the woman on the line told him which hospital Dean was in but refused to give further details about the eldest Winchester's condition. Bobby thanked the woman-probably Dean's own doctor- and hung up phone.

He swiped his baseball cap off and scratched at his head.

"Balls," he muttered, replacing the hat.

What was he going to do? He needed to go to the hospital, see exactly what kind of injuries Dean had sustained and perhaps drive the idjit back here but he sure as hell couldn't leave Sam on his own. And Bobby didn't trust anyone else to look after the boy while he was gone.

That was it then, Bobby would take Sam with him. It was the only thing to do.

Preparing himself, the veteran hunter walked into the living room, frowning at the sight of the young man on the couch exactly as he had left him. Curled up and staring out the window, Sam didn't react when Bobby came close.

"Son?" Bobby said quietly, "You alright?"

The young man stared right through the veteran hunter.

"Listen Sam," Bobby knelt down in front of the youngest Winchester, looking into his placid face, "I gotta go an' get yer idjit brother and you have to come with me."

Sam didn't react. Bobby sighed and rubbed a hand over his beard.

"We're gonna get Dean, son," he explained, "You and me."

Bobby reached out and grasped Sam's head, one hand on either side of his face.

"You hearin' me? Dean. We're gonna go to Dean," Bobby spoke, his nose only inches from Sam's.

The older man shook his head, released Sam and stood, realizing that he wasn't going to get through to the youngster.

Turning his back, Bobby glared out the bay window for a long moment, jumping in fright when he felt a touch on his sleeve. Sam stood behind him, one hand clutched in the sleeve of Bobby's plaid shirt.

The veteran hunter raised an eyebrow, "You ready to come along?"

Sam didn't respond but he didn't let go of Bobby's shirt either. The grizzled hunter took that as a yes and walked purposefully towards the front door before Sam could change his mind.

Bobby bent down as best he could and helped Sam put his sneakers on, tying them tightly. He grabbed the boy's jacket off the coat rack and brought it along, knowing Dean would have his head if Sam ended up getting a cold because he wasn't dressed warmly enough.

Sam followed behind Bobby as he stepped outside, making a bee-line for his old pickup truck. Making his way to the passenger side, Bobby pried Sam's hand off his sleeve and gestured the young man inside. Sam stared at him for a long moment. Bobby sighed; he knew the truck wasn't the Impala but it was the only vehicle he had running.

"S'alright son," Bobby coaxed, and gave Sam a little push.

Sure the pickup sat higher than the classic Chevy but for a guy of Sam's height, it shouldn't be a problem.

The young man blinked at Bobby and then turned to face the interior of the truck. He grabbed the inside door handle and pulled himself up, his movements uncoordinated and slow.

Once Sam was seated comfortably Bobby closed the door gently and rounded the front of the truck to the driver's side. Bobby couldn't help but worry about both Winchesters; he was afraid of what condition Dean would be in when they arrived at the hospital in Davidston and how Sam would react if his older brother wasn't well enough to interact with him.

These boys are gonna be the death of me, Bobby thought irritably as he climbed into the driver's seat and closed the door.

He glanced over at Sam as he turned the key in the ignition and reached over to take hold of the young man's seat belt.

"No need to tempt fate," Bobby muttered as he buckled Sam in and smiled at the youngest Winchester.

Sam was staring out the windshield, paying the older hunter no mind.

Bobby gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and pulled out of the driveway, the truck coughing loudly.

W

The veteran hunter could not help but glance at Sam from the corner of his eye every few seconds. He didn't like the young man's silence, it unnerved him that the boy was so quiet. Not that Sam had been a chatterbox but by now he should be venting his anger and worry for Dean. This Sam was completely closed off to Bobby. He had no idea what the young man was thinking.

Sam's expression betrayed nothing. His brow was smooth, his eyes were clear, his mouth set in a ambiguous line.

Bobby stopped two hours outside of Sioux Falls, to stretch his own cramped legs and to allow Sam the chance to do the same. The veteran hunter pulled into a small gravel parking lot outside of a picnic and rest-area. There were a half-dozen wooden picnic tables scattered around the hillside and a brick-sided public restroom sitting at the edge of grass.

A red sedan and a dark green mini van were the only other vehicles in the lot. Bobby caught sight of a young couple and a family of five sitting at separate picnic tables, enjoying lunch.

The old hunter stepped out of his pickup truck and opened the door for Sam, unbuckling him at the same time.

"C'mon out," Bobby smiled at the young man and Sam immediately grabbed at his shirt sleeve. Bobby allowed Sam to hold onto his sleeve as he led the way to the restroom.

The grizzled hunter watched the occupied picnic tables with a leery eye. He knew now how Dean felt when he spoke about taking Sam to those restaurants they had visited on their way to the Salvage Yard; wary of what people were thinking of the youngest Winchester.

The two hunters were far enough away that any conversation coming from the direction of the tables was too quiet to hear. Bobby sighed and tugged Sam along, perhaps with a little more force than necessary, slamming the restroom door open as he went.

W

"Two more hours, Sam," Bobby muttered to himself as he started the pickup and drove out of the parking lot, having met with no civilians on the way. The owners of both the sedan and mini van had remained at their picnic tables.

Bobby pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator, wanting only to get to the hospital.

How was he going to get Sam into see Dean without someone stopping them, asking about the young man? Clearly something was off about Sam, his placid, vacant expression would tell anyone right away that he was not in control of all his faculties.

"Cross that bridge when you get to it, Singer," Bobby grumbled and turned on the radio, grimacing when the ZZ Top song 'Le Grange' came on but he didn't turn it off. He could use some noise to cut through the mind-numbing silence in the truck.

W

Here goes, Bobby thought as he turned the engine of the pickup off, staring at the whitewashed bulk of Davidston General Hospital before him.

Sam leaned forward, placing both hands on the dashboard, as though somehow he knew that Dean was just beyond those sliding double-doors.

Bobby exited the pickup and hurried over to the passenger's side, opened the door and unbuckled Sam's seatbelt.

"Alright son," he told the young man as Sam fisted his hand in his shirtsleeve, "When we get in there, you just let me do the talking."

Sam smiled softly and Bobby grimaced in response. His old heart was pounding in his chest, hoping that Dean was not cooling on a slab in the morgue at the moment.

Bobby nearly dragged Sam after him as they rushed into the hospital, the sliding doors startling the young man for a moment but the veteran hunter did not pause until he reached the nurse's station.

"We're here to see Dean Winchester," Bobby told the young woman sitting behind the desk. She peered up at the two men and smiled, "Are you family?"

Bobby fought the urge to roll his eyes, "I'm his uncle and this here's his brother."

"Alright," the nurse said and turned to look at the computer screen as she typed.

Sam was staring wide-eyed at the bustling foyer. Doctors and orderlies were running around, family members were hugging and crying tears of either happiness or sadness, the PA system babbled overhead.

The young man's hand tightened in Bobby's sleeve, fingers curling into a fist and a frown forming on his face.

Finally the nurse behind the desk looked up, "Dean Winchester is in room three-oh-four."

"Thanks," Bobby muttered and turned around, almost toppling over when Sam didn't follow him and remained as still as a statue.

"Son!" the old hunter exclaimed, "C'mon!"

Sam's eyes were watery and he was frowning.

"Sammy?" Bobby asked, using the young man's nickname once again.

The hunter reached out and placed his hand over Sam's.

"We're gonna go up and see Dean now," Bobby explained, "Okay?"

The hunter took a couple of steps back and was relieved when the younger man followed.

Bobby quickly found the elevators and the one they stepped into was empty. The older man squeezed Sam's shoulder comfortingly, looking at their reflections in the shiny surface of the lift's door.

Taking a deep breath, Bobby led Sam out to the third-floor hallway. Glancing around, Bobby was relieved to see that at least they were not on the ICU floor. He peered nervously at each door they passed, praying that Dean would be alright when they saw him.

"Here it is," Bobby paused in front of a whitewashed door with a small metal plaque with the numbers 304 on it. He didn't even lift his gaze to look through the small square window, afraid of what he might see.

Slowly, Bobby pushed the door open, calling himself a wuss for acting as he was, and peered inside.

Dean was sitting up in bed, clad in a blue hospital gown with a sheepish expression on his face. Bobby frowned, besides the white piece of gauze taped to the young man's temple, Dean looked no worse for wear.

"Hey Bobby," he greeted and tried to smile.

Glowering in disapproval, the older hunter stomped into the room, dragging Sam along with him.

"You idjit!" Bobby growled, pulling Sam's hand off his sleeve and towering over the prostrate older brother.

"Bobby-" Dean tried but Bobby interrupted him, "Don't even start with me! You just listen!"

The eldest Winchester shrank back against the starched hospital pillows, his expression taken aback.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Why would you leave Sam alone?" Bobby snapped angrily.

"He was with you-" Dean spoke up but a glare from Bobby cut his argument short.

"You know better than anyone what Sam's like now! You should know he can't function without you!" Bobby growled, leaning in close to Dean, "At least you could have tried to ease him into you leaving! For a few hours at a time or something!"

"Bobby, I thought-" Dean attempted to speak again.

"No! You didn't think! You claim to be worried about Sam an' then you take off to God knows where without so much as a 'goodbye'!"

Dean's gaze dropped, his expression ashamed.

"He knows you, Bobby," he whispered, "I thought he'd be alright with you."

The veteran hunter rolled his eyes but decided not to say anything else; now was not the time or place to argue with Dean.

"We'll continue this back at the Salvage Yard, Dean Winchester," Bobby hissed menacingly.

Although he was pissed at the young man for being irresponsible, the grizzled hunter knew he wouldn't get into it again with the eldest Winchester. He knew Dean felt bad enough without him having to rub it in.

"You brought Sammy here?" Dean asked, pushing himself up against the pillows.

"Ayuh," Bobby said, "Couldn't leave him home alone."

Dean smirked, "I'm sure he'd be able to give Macaulay Culkin a run for his money."

The eldest Winchester shifted position and for the first time since Bobby had entered the room, took his eyes off the older man, spying his brother standing in the doorway.

"Hey Sammy," he called, "C'mon over here."

Shuffling slowly, the younger brother moved forward until he stood right beside Dean's bed. The older brother reached out and took hold of his sibling's wrist.

"How you doing, Sammy?" Dean asked, raising his brother's hand as he did so until it rested on his chest so Sam would be able to feel his heartbeat.

Sam, as usual, remained silent. He inched closer to the hospital bed, head down.

Dean glanced over at Bobby, "Doc gave me a clean bill of health; said I should be fine to go home in a few hours."

The grizzled hunter nodded.

"What exactly happened, Dean?" he asked, "I know you drive that old Impala like a bat out of Hell but it's not like you to get into accidents."

The younger man shrugged, "I was coming back- after you called- and I guess I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have. All I could think of was Sammy and I only took my eyes off the road for a moment… I was going to text you and ended up in the ditch instead."

Bobby looked like he wanted to wring Dean's neck for being so irresponsible but he only shook his head, "Thank God that's all that happened."

Turning his attention back to Sam, Dean titled his head so that he could try and get a look at his brother's face.

"I tried to get him to eat but he wasn't having any of it," Bobby spoke up, "He knew you weren't there straight away."

Dean frowned. He hadn't planned for it to turn out like this. Sam knew Bobby, liked him and was comfortable around him. Dean had thought Sam would be alright without him for a day or two.

I guess I was wrong, Dean thought sadly and sighed, rubbing his thumb along Sam's knuckles.

"What did you do about the case?" Bobby's voice cut in and Dean held back the urge to scowl at him.

"I called up one of Dad's old contacts to take care of it," the younger man explained absentmindedly.

Further questions were prevented when the door opened and a middle-aged woman with ash-blonde hair and faded blue eyes entered the room.

"Hello," she greeted them, "I'm Doctor Banner."

"Bobby Singer," the grizzled hunter stepped forward to shake the woman's hand, "An' this is Sam; Dean's brother."

Dean instinctively tightened his grip on Sam's wrist when his doctor turned to his sibling. Dr. Banner, however, only smiled and moved to Dean's other side, checking his charts and the heart-rate monitor they insisted he be hooked up to.

"Well my earlier diagnosis still stands," she announced happily after setting the clipboard on the end of the bed again, "You'll be a free man in a few hours. We just need to keep you a little longer for observation- hospital policy- but other than that I don't see any reason why you can't go home this evening."

"Thanks Doc," Dean said and watched the woman carefully as she looked at Sam again, almost as though she was analyzing him with her gaze.

From the corner of his eye, Dean caught Bobby following the doctor's line of vision as well, a frown on his face.

"I'll check in later on," Dr. Banner said and left the room, Dean's eyes nearly burning twin holes into the back of her lab coat as she went.

Leaning back against the pillows, Dean gritted his teeth, "Jesus! I thought she was gonna leap across the freakin' bed and grab Sam."

"She was probably just curious," Bobby commented, not sounding like he believed himself.

"Maybe I should have left him with Rufus," the grizzled hunter muttered.

Dean shook his head; sure, he liked Rufus- the man was a good hunter- but a babysitter, Dean was sure he was not. Besides, Sam might not remember the other hunter and if Bobby left him with Rufus, it may end badly.

"If anyone tries to take him away from me," Dean promised, "I'll kick their ass, doctors or not."

"I think I'm gonna head down to the cafeteria and get myself some coffee," Bobby changed the subject, "You want anything?"

"I could use a cold one," Dean smirked and Bobby rolled his eyes, leaving the room without further comment.

The older brother returned his attention to his brother. He shifted to the far side of the bed and patted the empty space beside him.

"Have a seat," Dean said and Sam sat heavily on the edge of the mattress, the position looking rather uncomfortable but he wouldn't complain.

"Sammy," Dean grabbed his brother wrist again- he'd had to let go as he moved over- and squeezed gently.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Dean apologized, his voice a whisper, even though he knew his brother probably didn't fully understand what he was saying.

"I was being a dick and you deserve better than that," he continued, "I just… I could never leave the hunting life, you know? I tried when you were gone… when I was with Lisa but… I'm not cut out for the 'apple pie life'… not like you."

Dean paused and glanced up at his brother. Sam's eyes were half closed, his expression unreadable.

"It's my fault you're like this… I didn't stop you… no matter what Bobby or anyone else says. I said you could do whatever you felt was right. I… I watched you jump and didn't do anything."

"What I'm trying to say is… you should be the most important thing to me… you are, actually, and I forgot that. There are other hunters out there. But there's only one me. Sure, we've got Bobby but, just between the two of us, he'll never be as awesome as I am."

Dean sighed and glanced out the window for a moment at the golden, early evening sunlight streaming through the glass.

"You probably have no clue what I'm saying, do you?"

Sam didn't answer.

"That's okay," Dean continued, "I know you can't stay mad a me. You never could."

The eldest Winchester looked up when the door opened again- expecting to see Bobby- but smiled anyway when a petite nurse walked in, a tray in her hands.

"Thanks Natasha," Dean said, causing the nurse to blush.

"Is this your brother?" she asked, looking at Sam after she set the tray down on the table beside the bed.

Dean nodded, "His name's Sam."

Natasha smiled sympathetically at the young man before speaking to Dean.

"Enjoy your dinner."

After the nurse was out of the room, Dean reached out and lifted his brother's chin, peering into Sam's face.

"What is it with people?"

Releasing his brother's chin, Dean stared at his hospital food- a tuna sandwich, a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and a cup of green Jell-O for dessert- and grimaced.

"Here, Sammy," Dean said and put the Jell-O cup and plastic spoon in his brother's hand, "Eat that and I'll let you have the sandwich."

The older Winchester waited until Sam had started eating before he began on his soup. It was lukewarm and bland but he didn't complain, it was his own damn fault for not paying attention to the road in the first place.

W

Bobby returned just as Dean finished his soup, setting the bowl aside and stretching, gingerly touching the gauze at his temple.

"Man am I ready to blow this joint," Dean muttered and switched the empty Jell-O cup for the tuna sandwich; his own stomach still growling hungrily.

Bobby sat down, coffee cup in hand and watched the brothers for a moment with a wry smile.

"What took you so long?" Dean asked, shoving his dinner tray aside and leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees.

Bobby's smiled faltered somewhat, "Was talking to Doctor Banner. She asked about Sam."

Dean's expression immediately darkened, "What did she say? What did you say?"

Sam, seeming to sense the change in his brother's mood, stopped eating his sandwich and turned his 'puppy-eyes' on his sibling.

Dean reached out and ruffled his sibling's hair affectionately, "Don't worry about it, Sam. I'm not letting anything happen to you."

Apparently placated, Sam resumed eating his sandwich and Dean turned a pointed expression on Bobby. The grizzled hunter sighed and sat his coffee cup aside.

"She asked what was wrong with him," Bobby explained and Dean's expression turned even more grim.

"What did you tell her?"

Bobby took off his baseball cap and scratched his thinning hair, "I said he had been in an accident an' that you were taking care of him, that you were his legal guardian 'cause both yer folks were gone. I didn't go into any great detail, just tried to keep her from asking too many questions."

"What business is it of hers what happened to Sam," Dean growled, "It isn't like he's being treated badly. I can take care of him."

Bobby shrugged, his mouth moving but not speaking.

"What?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Nuthin'… It's just… not too long ago, people like Sam probably would have been institutionalized," Bobby spoke his thoughts, "I'm sure more than a few of them still are."

The eldest Winchester's eyes narrowed.

"I think yer doctor was more shocked than anything that you were taking the responsibility of lookin' after Sam, is all," Bobby finished.

Dean nodded.

Why wouldn't I look after Sammy? He's my brother.

Dean couldn't imagine leaving his sibling- his last remaining family member, besides Bobby- in some sketchy state-run home. Sam didn't deserve that. After all he'd done, after everything he'd sacrificed, that would have been a slap in the face.

W

Dean closed his eyes gratefully as he sat in between Sam and Bobby. The pickup truck wasn't really made to hold three full-grown men but the Impala was too damaged to drive back to Sioux Falls and really he knew he shouldn't be complaining.

The sky was a dark purple, the stars just beginning to shine, as they headed home. Bobby didn't speak much and Dean didn't feel like talking to the older man, afraid he'd get reamed again so he spent the time thinking about Sam.

Dean knew that he wouldn't go out hunting again, no matter how much he wanted to; that wasn't him anymore. His job was to take care of Sam.

The eldest Winchester couldn't help but feel guilty though, there were people out there who need him and he was resigning himself to being his brother's keeper instead.

It wouldn't have to be like this if you'd told Sam jumping into Lucifer's Cage was a stupid idea, Dean told himself. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers.

"You tired, boy?" Bobby asked without taking his gaze from the road.

"Yeah," Dean muttered and looked away from the older man, towards his brother.

Sam was looking out the passenger window, one hand against the glass.

SPN

"Say my name," Dean said to his brother the next morning as Bobby watched, leaning against the counter, "I know you can do it."

The grizzled hunter shook his head and took a large drink of coffee, his heart breaking for the younger man. The Winchesters were sitting at the kitchen table, breakfast dishes in the sink, and Dean had his hands on either side of his brother's face, ensuring Sam was looking at him.

"D-e-a-n," the older brother stressed, "Dean. C'mon Sammy, its easy. It was your first word, you've got to remember."

Sam didn't speak. His lips were turned up slightly as though he thought Dean's attempts at making him talk were humorous.

Bobby couldn't take it anymore, "The boy's not gonna talk if he don't wanna."

Or can't, the older man corrected as Dean's hazel eyes bore into his grey ones.

"He can't stay like this forever, Bobby!" Dean insisted, "He has to start getting better now that he's Topside again!"

The grizzled hunter sighed, "Dean, from what you told me Cas said, Sam's not going to get better. Lucifer and Michael did Sam some irreparable damage."

The younger man looked like he wanted to snap at Bobby, but he didn't. Instead, Dean turned to look at Sam. The older sibling reached up and brushed the younger man's long bangs back from his brow.

Dean sighed and sat back, picking up his own mug of coffee and drinking deeply.

"Are you alright, son?" Bobby asked concernedly.

Dean shrugged, "No, not really. But I'll live, I guess."

The veteran hunter pushed himself away from the counter and stared at the young man, "This ain't the end of the world. This ain't the hardest challenge you boys have had to face."

Dean gave Bobby an incredulous look.

"You'll get through this, just as you always do," Bobby continued, "Just take things slow. Don't rush."

Dean nodded and his expression turned sheepish, "I know I don't deserve anything from you after what I did the other day… but… can you help me? With Sam?"

Bobby smiled, "I thought you'd never ask."


	5. Chapter Five

It was difficult for Dean to leave Sam with Bobby, especially after his brother's reaction when he'd gone to Davidston. But the grizzled hunter had explained that they would take things slow- move forward in baby steps if need be- and Dean felt a little better. The eldest Winchester started going out to work on the cars in the Salvage Yard without his sibling. Bobby would stay inside, researching for other hunters, and keeping an eye on Sam.

At first the young man was clearly distressed by Dean's absence. Sam would stare out the front window in much the same way he had the day Dean had crashed the Impala. Bobby tried his best to ignore the young man's 'puppy eyes' and get his work done but more often than not found himself at Sam's side, trying to console him. A week passed before Sam calmed down after Dean had walked out of the house. He stared at the door for a long moment before turning around and following Bobby into the living room and sitting on the couch. The veteran hunter, expecting Sam to take up his usual position between his desk and the window, couldn't help but smile when he saw the young man looked relaxed instead of agitated. Bobby smiled and walked over to Sam, grabbing the remote off the coffee table and turning the television on for him. Sam offered Bobby a small smiled and turned his attention to the screen.

SPN

Dean squeezed his brother tightly in his arms when he came inside for a little bit of lunch. Bobby had told him that Sam had finally become comfortable without him and Dean couldn't help but smile broadly at the achievement.

"I'm so proud of you, Sammy," Dean told his sibling, brushed the younger man's hair back from his face.

Sam just seemed to be glad that Dean was back with him.

"We should celebrate," Bobby suggested as all three hunters sat down to eat.

Dean looked up from his sandwich, "Sure, sounds good. How?"

"Well," Bobby spoke almost hesitantly, "There's a place downtown, a little dive of a restaurant, that makes the best burgers in South Dakota."

Dean set his sandwich down, already ready to shoot down the idea despite how awesome the burgers were.

"Bobby-" The eldest Winchester began but Bobby held up a hand, "I already know what yer gonna say, Dean. You and Sam can't stay here all day, it ain't good for either of you."

Dean frowned and glanced at his brother, slowly chewing, completely ignoring his sibling and friend.

"You've got to get over this fear that everyone's out to hurt Sam," Bobby told Dean seriously, "If anyone tries to take him away, it'll be easy to prove you can care for him. And, from what you've told me, anything assholes say goes right over his head so it shouldn't bother you if it ain't bothering him."

Dean opened his mouth to reply but then sighed, "You're right. I shouldn't let it get to me like it does. I just can't help it. I've always looked out for Sam and if anyone so much as looked at him funny I'd kick their ass. I guess I can't really do that anymore."

Bobby chuckled a little bit before Dean's expression turned serious.

"We can go," Dean conceded, "But if anything happens, we're out of there."

"Sounds fair enough to me," the veteran hunter agreed and turned his attention back to his lunch.

W

Dean surveyed the diner as he slid into the booth beside his brother; Sam sitting next to the wall with Bobby seated across from them.

The restaurant was old and worn but clean. The tables were dark, scarred wood; the booths padded with dark green vinyl. The walls were decorated with classic beer advertisements, neon signs and autographed pictures of famous folks who had eaten there.

Dean had to admit the place was kind of cool.

"How come we've never been here?" He asked Bobby; sure he would remember if he'd eaten in this particular diner.

Bobby shrugged, "When yer Daddy and I were still talking, you boys were too little to drag in here and then well, there was that fallin' out and you didn't show for a while. I didn't tell you about this place after 'cause you and Sam always seemed to come to visit with bad news and it didn't seem appropriate to go out for dinner."

Dean nodded thoughtfully but then smiled when a pretty young waitress approached their table.

"Hi, my name is Amy, can I get you some drinks to start off?" The waitress asked as she handed out menus- Dean taking one for both him and Sam- before getting her pad and paper ready.

"Two beers and a Coca-Cola," Bobby ordered and Amy nodded, "Coming right up."

Dean smirked as the young woman walked away, leaning slightly to get a better view of her behind as she headed towards the bar.

"Dean," Bobby reprimanded but the veteran hunter was smiling.

Dean shrugged, "What can I say? I appreciate a nice tight- Hey, Sam, what's the matter?"

The younger man's brows were knitted together in confusion, one hand on the table crunching his napkin, the other hand resting on the faux wood-paneled wall beside him.

"Sammy?" Dean turned in the booth so that his body was angled towards his sibling, "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

Sam wasn't looking at Dean, in fact, the older brother wasn't sure his sibling was looking at anything, his eyes glassy and distant.

"Son?" Bobby leaned forward and carefully pried the paper napkin from Sam's fist.

Dean stood up and stared at the booths in front of them, wondering what could have caused Sam to act like he was.

Sitting back down, Dean frowned and brushed his brother's hair back from his face, "I don't see anything."

Bobby looked at Dean, frowning, "Do you want to leave?"

Before Dean could reply, a thought suddenly hit him. He looked up at the lights above their table, regular incandescent bulbs covered with red glass shades. Peering down, Dean saw that the shades caused a crimson glow to fall over their booth. That must be what was upsetting Sam; the light must have triggered some memory from his time in the Cage.

"Hold on Sammy," Dean murmured, "I'm going to fix this."

The hunter caught sight of their waitress and caught her eye as she approached their table with the drink.

"Uh, Amy, is there a booth that doesn't have these red lights?" Dean asked and the waitress and the girl frowned, "I don't think so. I'm sorry. Are they bothering you?"

Bobby spoke up before Dean could continue, "I forgot my glasses at home and the lights ain't great to read by."

Dean caught sight of the older hunter watching his brother and from the corner of his eye he saw Sam start to shrink into himself, his look of bewilderment turning to one of fear.

"Is he okay?" Amy asked, peering over Dean at his sibling.

Dean didn't know what to say so he told the truth, "Uh, no. He's not. Are you sure there's no place in here without these red shades?"

Dean was preparing himself to leave when Amy spoke up, "I'll go check if we can take the shades off. I'm so sorry about that."

Bobby shook his head, "Not yer fault, hon."

Dean turned back to Sam as Amy hurried away.

"What's going on? Why now?" he asked Bobby and the hunter shrugged, "Right place, right time?"

Dean scowled and reached out to place his hands on either side of his brother's face, "It's okay, Sammy. Look at me, alright?"

Reluctantly, the younger man turned his gaze on his brother but Dean didn't feel relief; that far away look in Sam's eyes scared him.

Suddenly, Sam jumped in his seat, causing Dean to flinch and the younger man wrapped one hand around his brother's wrist.

"Sam, c'mon," Dean muttered, and reached out to take hold of his brother's hand that was still resting against the wall.

Sam didn't fight his brother but his expression remained the same, scared and confused. Dean peered over his shoulder, catching sight of Amy heading towards their table with a middle-aged man in an old Ramones t-shirt.

"Hi, I'm Louis Montague, the manager," the man announced, "Amy here tells me there's a problem?"

Bobby nodded, "Do you have somewhere we can sit without these lights, or take the shades off?"

Louis looked confused for a moment, probably wondering what was wrong with red lights, before nodding.

"The other side of the restaurant doesn't have these kinds of lights," he pointed up as if the hunters had forgotten they were there.

"What kind are they?" Dean asked cautiously, keeping both hands locked around Sam's wrists as his brother began to fidget.

Louis' eyebrows knitted together, "Regular ones? They have uh, blue shades, if that helps."

Dean looked at Sam's face. Blue might be okay. Then again, it might not be. Either way, Dean knew they couldn't continue sitting here before Sam had a full-blown panic attack.

"Okay," Dean replied, "Let's try it."

Standing, pulling his brother up with him, the eldest Winchester followed the manager and Amy as they made their way across the crowded restaurant, Bobby bringing up the rear. Dean released Sam's wrists but laid a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Please let this work, Dean thought as they approached another booth, this one illuminated by blue lights.

Bobby slid into one side of the booth and Dean followed suit, sitting down across from him. Normally he'd want to have Sam sit beside the wall but Dean wasn't sure how his brother would react to the change in décor just yet.

He ignored the manager and waitress as he slid his hand down Sam's arm, gripping his wrist tightly and gently cajoled him into sitting beside him.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean muttered, not even looking at the two civilians, "That's it. There. Is that better?"

Sam stared down at the tabletop that had a faint blue glow to it from the lights overhead and let out a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his expression no longer as distant as before.

"Atta boy," Dean praised and squeezed Sam's hand where it rested against the vinyl padding of the bench.

"Is everything alright now?" Louis asked and Bobby nodded, "We're fine."

The manager looked relieved and left, leaving Amy to take care of the small family.

"I'll get your drinks and new menus right away," she assured them and turned to go.

Dean leaned back against the booth, sighing. Sam was okay now. That was all that mattered.

"I don't know about you, Sammy," Dean announced, "But I'm ready to eat."

SPN

Bobby couldn't help but smile as Dean fussed over his brother. Dean sat close to Sam, making sure the younger man ate while his own meal went untouched.

As though he sensed the older hunter watching him, Dean looked up, "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking how you make a fantastic mother," Bobby told Dean, his smile widening at the younger man's outraged expression.

"Shut up," the eldest Winchester growled but there was no real spite in his words.

Once Sam was finished, Dean began eating; almost inhaling the food even though it had gone cold. He didn't say anything though, looking after Sam was his top priority and if he had to eat a cold burger and fries, then so be it.

When nothing but crumbs were left on the plates, Amy came by.

"Was everything good?" she asked cheerfully. Dean and Bobby told her it was.

"Can I bring you dessert menus?" Amy asked and Dean's eyes lit up at the mention of a sweet treat.  
"Do you have pie?" he asked eagerly and Bobby rolled his eyes.

"We do," the waitress informed them, "Five different kinds."

Dean grinned and asked for pecan. Amy nodded and turned to Bobby, "Can I get you anything?"

"Some coffee, hun," the grizzled hunter said and the waitress nodded, taking her leave.

"How you doing, Sammy?" Dean asked and Bobby noticed that the younger Winchester actually looked tired, his eyes half-closed.

"Don't worry," Bobby leaned forward, "Dean will make short work of that pie."

"Ha ha," Dean grumbled, reaching out to brush Sam's bangs away from his forehead.

When Amy returned with the coffee and dessert, Dean didn't immediately start eating as Bobby assumed he would. Instead, he took Bobby's saucer and unused fork and cut the slice of pie in half even though he easily could have finished it himself. Dean carefully slid one slice of the pecan pie onto the saucer and sat it in front of Sam, setting the fork in his brother's hand.

Bobby chuckled into his coffee mug as he watched, never ceasing to be amazed at how devoted Dean was to his brother.

W

"So," Bobby began as the two hunters sat down across from each other at the grizzled hunter's kitchen table, "Have you thought about what I've said?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, "That not everyone is out to get Sam? Or that we need at least an hour of fresh air a day?"

Bobby scowled, "Well, have you?"

Dean nodded and scratched the back of his head, "Yeah, Bobby. I did. You're right. Of course."

"And?" Bobby prompted, because Dean was not going to get out of this just because they'd had one good night in public.

"I guess we could start getting out and start acting like regular people," Dean admitted and Bobby nodded.

The young man gave Bobby his version of the 'puppy eyes' but the veteran hunter ignored them, "Retiring ain't all that bad, Dean. You're lucky you get to retire with your sanity and limbs intact, not every hunter can say the same."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, we are lucky."

Bobby frowned for a moment, wondering if the young man was going to say something else but then Dean just drained his beer and stood.

"I'm gonna go check on Sammy," the older brother said and walked out of the kitchen.

Bobby sat where he was for a second before sighing and finishing his own drink. Dean had tried to live a civilian life with Lisa and it hadn't worked out, but hopefully now that Sam was back, the transition from hunter to average Joe would become a little easier. Bobby was sure that it would, albeit with small steps.


	6. Chapter Six

"So Sammy, what do you want to do today?" Dean asked his brother as they sat down to breakfast.

The younger man blinked at Dean and he sighed. Bobby looked up from his paper, a sympathetic look on face.

Some days Dean really wished Sam would speak. It was unnerving to have his brother stare at him like a goldfish.

"The art gallery in town is open today," Bobby suggested, smirking when Dean grimaced.

"What? You could certainly do with some culture in your life," Bobby joked.

Dean looked altogether serious though, "Fine. Let's go to the museum. But you're coming with us, old man."

Bobby narrowed his eyes at the younger hunter and grumbled under his breath, returning his attention to his paper.

He didn't really mind though, if Dean wanted him to go to the museum for a couple of hours, Bobby was more than happy to do so. He'd do anything for those boys and besides; it would get him out of the house too.

W

Dean turned his head to the side as he stared at the piece of artwork on the wall before him.

Art, pfft; Dean thought sarcastically, it's a piece of canvas painted yellow.

"I don't get it," he muttered and Bobby snickered, patting Sam's arm, the younger man standing beside him.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said, "Let's go look at something that actually makes sense."

Sam obediently followed Dean as they left the 'Modern Art' area and headed towards the Renaissance and Baroque floor.

"Hey! This is more my style!" Dean exclaimed at the sight of the paintings, many of which depicted women, both clothed and nude.

Bobby, who had come with the brothers, rolled his eyes, "Yer an idjit."

Dean grinned at the older hunter. He was allowed to have some fun too, wasn't he?

W

Once they'd had their fill of the Art Museum, the Winchesters and Bobby returned to the Salvage Yard.

"See Dean," the grizzled hunter commented as he made sandwiches, "That didn't hurt too much, did it?"

Dean, sitting at the table with Sam, shook his head, "You were right."

Bobby nodded, "Course I am."

Dean glanced at his sibling. It was impossible to tell but Dean was sure Sam had enjoyed the outing.

"I could see us doing more of this kind of thing, eh Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam stared at him for a moment before smiling.

"But next time I get to pick where we go," Dean announced.

SPN

Two days passed and the Winchesters once again remained close to the Salvage yard. Bobby frowned and decided to confront Dean.

"Son, you gotta get out," he told the younger man as Dean was bent over the engine of the car he was fixing.

Dean looked up, "Huh?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, "It's been two days since our trip to the Art Gallery. You think it's about time you and Sam went out again?"

Dean straightened up all the way, wiping his hands off on a rag, looking sheepish.

"Where else can I take him, Bobby?"

The grizzled hunter sighed, "Anywhere, Dean, as long as it gets the both of you out of the house."

Dean nodded and tossed the rag aside.

"I know its hard with Sam as he is," Bobby continued, "But being around other people, doing normal things, might just help him. We can't know that for certain but it's worth at shot, don't you think? But you've gotta keep at it."

Dean nodded; what he wouldn't give to have his pain-in-the-ass little brother back to his old self again.

"Okay, I know Bobby," he said, then smirked, "You're gonna have to keep on me until we get into a routine."

The veteran hunter raised an eyebrow, "Don't think I won't either."

W

Half an hour later Sam and Dean were riding in the Impala. Dean wondered if his brother might enjoy a movie. They hadn't been to one together in ages and in a darkened theatre no one would be paying attention to Sam.

But the younger man already watched a lot of television and Dean didn't want his brain to turn to mush.

Sighing, the eldest Winchester peered out the windshield; trying to think of something he could do with his brother.

Glancing at Sam from the corner of his eye, Dean noticed that his brother was peering out the side window at the activities going on in the local park they were passing.

Dean looked as well and saw a bunch of little kids digging around in the large sandbox, older boys kicking around a soccer ball and a few girls chatting beneath the shade trees. Parents- mostly mothers- sat on the benches watching their children enjoying the warm weather.

"Oh no, Sammy," Dean muttered, "Too many people."

The younger man watched the park until it passed and then turned his head to stare straight ahead.

Dean pulled up to an intersection and stopped at a red light. He looked at his brother, thinking.

What harm could it do, to go to the park? They needed to get out of Bobby's hair for a few hours and relaxing and getting fresh air and sunshine was very tempting.

Maybe being around other people would help Sam come out of his shell.

Dean drove through the intersection when the light turned green but turned left instead of going straight. He drove into the parking lot of a strip-mall and turned around.

"You better not make me regret this," Dean told his brother jokingly.

W

Dean parked in the lot beside the park and cut the Impala's engine. He remained where he was for a moment, just watching the people in the park before turning to his brother.

"Okay, Sammy, let's get this show on the road."

Sam turned his head to Dean and smiled as though he knew exactly what he'd been doing.

Dean got out of the car and walked around the Chevy's nose to Sam's side. He opened his brother's door and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Sam stood up and instantly reached for Dean's sleeve.

"Aw, c'mon Sammy," Dean muttered but didn't shove his sibling's hand away.

The two walked towards the park, Dean scoping out a good place to sit.

"Here we go," Dean muttered- mostly to himself- when he spied a bench that was somewhat removed from the sandbox and jungle gym but still close by and headed there.

Dean sat and pulled Sam down with him.

He guessed it wasn't that bad. The chicks were hot at least.

Dean leaned against the back of the bench and sighed. This was a lot better than some snooty old museum.

SPN

Bobby looked up when he heard the Impala pulling into the driveway and smiled when he saw the brothers step out of the car.

"Well, you two must have had a good time," he announced, wiping his greasy hands off on a rag, "You were out for almost four hours."

Dean shrugged, smiling.

"What'd you do?" the grizzled hunter asked, "Didn't take yer brother to a strip club did you?"

Dean looked insulted, "What? No! I'd never do that to Sam. He'd kick my ass if I tried."

Bobby glanced at the youngest Winchester. Sam looked like the farthest thing from his mind was kicking his brother's ass. He did look happy though, so whatever they had been doing had pleased him.

"We went to the park," Dean told him.

Bobby's eyebrow raised, "The park? Aren't you a little too old for the Merry-Go-Round?"

"Ha ha," Dean laughed sarcastically, "We just sat and took in the sights."

Bobby chuckled, "I'll bet you did."

"Hey! It might not be a strip joint but the park has some pretty hot babes."

The veteran hunter shook his head, "You hungry? I was thinking of going in and making up something for lunch."

SPN

The park, as it turned out, was not a one-time thing. Dean found himself driving him and Sam to it on an almost-daily basis.

The brothers would simply sit for hours on the park bench; sometimes Dean would bring drinks or snacks, and relax while getting some fresh air and free entertainment.

At first Dean was concerned that someone might thing that he and Sam were a 'together' or worse, a pair of perverts, but luckily no one paid them much mind. Dean made sure not to be lewd if he saw a woman he found attractive and he certainly didn't leer at the kids playing.

Soon, Dean and Sam became regulars at the park and were just two more pieces of scenery.

Not that Dean minded. Sure, before everything had happened with the Apocalypse and Sam going to Hell he would have chased down every cute jogger or single Mom in the park for her number but now he was content just to use his imagination.

"You thirsty?" Dean asked his brother and pulled a juice box from the small cooler sitting beside him.

Dean was completely focused on pulling the little plastic covering off the straw and stabbing the straw through the circle of foil at the top of the box that he didn't the woman walking towards him.

"Hello."

Dean's head snapped up and he stared at the young woman- who looked to be around his own age- standing before him.

She had curly red hair that was pulled into a ponytail, ivory skin spattered with freckles and clear blue eyes.

"Hi," Dean said and smiled.

"I'm Marsha," the woman said and Dean couldn't hold back a grimace.

"Marsha?"

The woman chuckled, "Not my choice. I'm named after my grandmother."

"Well Marsha," the eldest Winchester replied, "I'm Dean. Also named after my grandmother."

"Really?" Marsha asked in disbelief.

"Really," Dean assured her.

Dean opened his mouth to speak again when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

He forgotten Sammy's juice.

"Sorry, Buddy," Dean murmured and handed Sam the juice box.

"Are you-" Marsha began but Dean cut in quickly, "Brothers."

"Ah… that's what I was going to say."

Dean smiled, "Sure."

"It was!" Marsha exclaimed, "I've been watching you two for a while now. Since you first started coming here, in fact."

The woman looked down demurely for a moment before peering back up at Dean.

"You've been spying on us?" the hunter asked.

"A little," Marsha replied.

Dean smirked, "I like that in a woman."

Marsha laughed loudly and Dean found himself loving the sound.

"Oh! I'm so rude! What's your brother's name?" Marsha asked suddenly, cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Sam," Dean told her and glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye.

Sam was contentedly drinking his juice, paying no heed to his brother or Marsha.

"So, what brings you here?" Dean asked.

Marsha wasn't wearing jogging clothes. No sports bra or yoga pants for her. Instead, she was clad in blue jean shorts and an emerald green blouse.

"My daughter, Victoria, is just over there," Marsha said and waved to a little girl with strawberry blonde hair who looked about five-years-old.

The child, seeing her mother, jumped down from the monkey bars she was climbing on, and ran towards them.

"Hi Mommy!"

The girl grabbed her mother around the legs in a hug.

"Tori," Marsha said, laying a hand on the girl's head, "I'd like you to meet my friends. This is Dean and his brother, Sam."

Tori peeked out from behind her mother's legs and muttered a quick 'hello' before darting off towards the playground again.

Marsha chuckled, "Normally she isn't that shy."

Dean shrugged, "Would you like to sit?"

He moved the cooler onto the ground at his feet and Marsha sat beside him.


	7. Chapter Seven

"I haven't really seen you in town," Marsha said as she took a seat on the bench beside Dean, "Are you two from here?"

The eldest Winchester shook his head, "No, we only came here a few weeks ago. We're staying with a family friend. Bobby Singer, you may know him."

Marsha nodded, prudently keeping any derogatory thoughts about the grizzled hunter to herself. Dean knew that people in town thought Bobby was a drunkard- the Sheriff being one of those people- and he hoped that his association with the man wouldn't deter Marsha.

"That was awful what happened to his wife," the redhead said, "I know it was before my time but, you know, people talk."

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

"Are you going to be staying long?" Marsha asked, trying to sound casual but it was clear to Dean that she hoped he would be having an extended visit with the 'town drunk'.

Dean shrugged, "As far as I know, Sam and I are here permanently."

"Oh! That's great!" the woman brightened, smiling at Dean but quickly lost her happy expression at the sight of the hunter's face.

"It's because of Sam, isn't it?" Marsha asked quietly.

Dean nodded, "Yeah. Bobby's helping me look after him."

They grew silent for a long moment. Dean turned his attention away from the redhead when he noticed that Sam had finished his juice and he took the tetra pack from his brother, slipping it back into the cooler because he didn't want to leave Sam alone, even for the moment it would take to toss the box into the trashcan.

"What's happened to him? Or has he…" Marsha spoke up, her voice hesitant, as if she wasn't sure if she should be talking about Sam.

Dean shook his head, "He was one of the smartest people I knew. Got into Stanford on a scholarship. Was going to be a lawyer… No he was in an… accident… a while ago and he's been like this ever since… I don't know if he's going to get better or anything…"

Marsha's eyes widened and grew wet, her hand going to her mouth, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Dean shrugged, "I've still got Sammy so it's better than the alternative, you know?"

The redhead nodded.

Before the silence could become strained, Dean spoke up.

"What about you? Are you a local?"

Marsha nodded, "Born and raised."

"Doesn't seem like a bad place," Dean smiled, "And trust me, I've been to a lot of towns like this one."

Marsha made a face, "It's alright. Big enough, I guess but it still has that small-town mentality where everyone knows everyone's secrets."

Dean's eyes sparkled with mischief, "And what's your big secret?"

Marsha chuckled but then grew serious, "I'm a single Mom. Not all that uncommon nowadays but when you live in a place like this… Tori's father and I met one night at a concert and… that was that. Never saw him again or anything."

Dean frowned. Although he had had his share of one-night stands he wouldn't abandon his kid- if he knew he had a kid. He thought about Ben and how he had become a fixture- albeit reluctantly, at first- in the boy's and his mother's lives.

"So?" Dean said, "Lots of woman are single mothers on their own."

Marsha sighed, "When you're our age people expect you to be responsible, you know? They thought I'd acted like some teenage girl high on hormones."

"It's mostly my mother who troubles me anyway. She loves Tori, don't get me wrong, but she always reminds me of what I could have been, what I could have done if I didn't have her."

Dean scowled. Marsha's mother sounded like a bitch.

The redhead sighed again and looked up at Dean, "Let's talk about something else, okay?"

SPN

"Enjoy yourselves?" Bobby asked as the Winchesters stepped inside, both smiling.

The grizzled hunter took one look at Dean's grin and knew that something really good must have happened.

"Met someone," Dean answered, taking hold of Sam's elbow and leading him into the kitchen.

"Ay? Who?" Bobby asked, following the brothers.

"Her name is Marsha," Dean said as he pulled a beer from the fridge for himself and a bottle of water for Sam.

"She about four feet, white curly hair, wrinkled skin?" Bobby joked.

Dean cringed, "No way."

The younger man described Marsha and Bobby nodded, "I think I know her mother. A real piece of work, that woman."

Dean nodded, "That's what I thought."

"She works at the library downtown," Bobby told him.

"I'll make sure to steer clear," Dean assured the hunter jokingly.

"What about you, son? Have a good time?" Bobby asked the younger Winchester as though he fully expected a response.

Sam, however, only smiled benignly at him.

SPN

Marsha unlocked her front door and sat Tori down. The five-year old ran into the apartment, squealing happily.

The woman smiled and headed into the kitchen. She had just poured herself a glass of water from the refrigerator when the telephone rang.

"Hello?" Marsha answered and closed her eyes for a moment when her mother answered.

"I was calling you all morning, where were you?"

"At the park with Tori," Marsha told her.

"Don't you have work?" The woman asked and Marsha could hear the suspicion in her voice.

"No," she replied, holding back the urge to sigh, "I had the day off."

"Are you still working at that awful bar?"

Marsha gritted her teeth, "It's not awful, Mom. They give me all the time off I need so I can be with Tori."

"Hm, well, I'd wish you'd get a real job," her mother commented, "I could put in a good word at the library for you."

"No, that's okay," Marsha cringed, just imagining having to work with her mother.

"Do you want to say hi to Tori?" Marsha asked quickly, changing the subject.

She called her daughter and smiled when the child came running into the kitchen. Marsha handed Tori the phone.

"Hi Nana!" the little girl chimed and Marsha leaned against the counter as Tori began regaling her grandmother with the events of the morning.

After her daughter was finished, Marsha took the phone back.

"You met a man at the park?" her mother asked.

"Yeah," Marsha answered.

"What's his name? Do I know him?"

"Probably not," Marsha said, "He just moved here with his brother."

She didn't say anything about Sam or Bobby Singer, knowing that her mother would tell her to stay away from Dean- as though she was a little kid and her mother was warning her away from bad influences.

"Well, Marsha," her mother said, "You're not getting any younger and Victoria could really use a male influence in your life. God knows you needed one."

"Mother!" Marsha said sharply.

"It's true! You're father was never around for us," her mother reminded her.

"And look how I turned out," Marsha interrupted, sarcastically.

"Exactly," her mother didn't catch the tone in her daughter's voice, "Thirty years old, single mother, working at a bar for Christ's sake!"

"I'd love to chat all about the mistakes I've made but I have to get lunch ready for Tori," Marsha interjected, grinding her teeth together.

"Marsha-" her mother began but she ended the call, all but slamming the phone back into its cradle.

Taking a deep breath, Marsha calmed down before she began turned and took out a loaf of bread, a bottle of ketchup and a package of bologna to make sandwiches.

SPN

Dean stared at his brother for a long moment, watching as Sam slowly at his peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich.

Normally such scrutiny would have annoyed the younger Winchester but Sam apparently didn't notice.

Bobby raised an eyebrow at Dean.

"What're you thinking?"

The younger man shrugged, "I just thought that this would start to help Sam but it hasn't."

Bobby frowned, "I didn't say that it was a surefire way to help Sam. I thought it might. And it may yet. You just have to be patient Dean, Sam's been through a hundred and eighty years of Hell so don't expect a week at a park is bound to put a dent in all those memories so soon."

Dean sighed, "I know… I just want him back to normal… back to the way he was…"

"I know you do, son," Bobby said, "I do too. But Sam may be like this for the rest of his life. Or, if this does help, he may not be completely back to the way he once was."

Dean nodded, "Yeah… I know."

Sam glanced over at his brother and smiled.

SPN

Marsha grinned as she caught sight of Dean and Sam sitting on the park bench the next day as she walked into the park with Tori.

The five-year old tugged at her hand before her fingers slipped from Marsha's and she ran towards the sandbox.

"Hey," the redhead greeted and instantly relaxed when Dean waved to her.

SPN

Dean looked up when Marsha's daughter came towards them.

"Hi there," he greeted the child and Tori ran over to her mother.

Today, the girl was wearing her strawberry blonde hair in twin braids down her back. She had on a red t-shirt and jeans. On her feet was a pair of pink sandals.

Tori looked up at Marsha and pointed at Sam.

"Why don't he talk?"

Marsha opened her mouth to answer but Dean beat her to it.

"He's waiting," he told the child.

Tori turned her blue eyes on him- they looked exactly like her mother's- and replied, "For what?"

Dean smiled, "Sam doesn't talk unless he has something really, really important to say."

The little girl seemed to mull this idea over in her head for a moment before answering.

"So… it'll be really 'portant when he does talk."

Dean nodded, "That's right."

Marsha glanced at Dean from the corner of her eye but the hunter ignored her.

Tori left her mother's side and approached Sam. She reached out one tiny hand and placed it on his jean-clad knee.

"Wanna play?" she asked and although Sam didn't answer, Tori tugged at his hand, her own dwarfed even more in his large one.

Dean opened his mouth, about to tell her that he didn't think Sam wanted to play but to his surprise Sam stood and followed the girl towards the sandbox.

"You could have just told her Sam doesn't talk," Marsha said but her tone was not accusatory.

Dean shrugged, "I think Sam is waiting."

Marsha raised an eyebrow at the man.

"When the moment's right," Dean continued, "He'll speak."

The woman shrugged. What could it hurt to tell her daughter a little story? She was only five-years old.

"That's part of the reason we're out here," Dean spoke up, "In the park. With people. I'm trying to help Sam realize that he's okay, that it's safe."

Marsha looked at Dean and wondered just what had happened to his brother.

Dean stood abruptly and walked towards the sandbox. Sam was sitting on the wooden edge of the play area, his long legs drawn up so that his knees nearly touched his chin, while Tori played in the sand.

"I'm building a castle!" the girl announced proudly as Dean crouched down beside his brother.

He looked up. Some of the older kids were staring at Tori and Sam but many of the younger ones were lost in their own games. The mothers didn't seem to mind Sam's presence, which was a good thing. They were familiar sights in the park and hadn't been deemed at threat to their children.

Dean stood and made his way back to the bench where Marsha waited.

"Is everything alright?" she asked as Dean sat.

"Yeah, everything's good."


	8. Chapter Eight

Dean frowned when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and trill out the chords to 'Smoke on the Water'. He and Bobby were cleaning up the dishes after dinner- Bobby washed while he dried and put them away- and was definitely not expecting a call. He had no one who would call him.

"You gonna answer it or stand there?" Bobby asked, setting a plate in the dish rack.

Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and glance at the Caller ID; it was Marsha. Even though they had only known each other for a week, the two had exchanged numbers.

"Yer lady friend can't get enough of you?" Bobby commented, seeing who was calling.

Dean rolled his eyes. He had no idea why Marsha would be calling him; they had seen one another at the park earlier that very day. Dean even recalled Tori asking why Sam never spoke.

"Hello," he greeted, holding the phone to his ear.

"Dean? I'm really sorry to call but I was called into work and I don't have anyone to look after Tori," Marsha said, sounding sorry for calling the hunter.

"No one? No regular babysitter?" Dean asked. He didn't really know how to look after kids, especially little ones. Sure, he'd taken care of Sam when they'd been younger but that had been a long time ago.

"Usually my Mom would come over," Marsha explained, "But she left this morning to visit my Aunt in Pierre."

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Please," Marsha sounded almost desperate, "I can't leave her alone. She's too young. I wouldn't ask but you take care of Sam and-"

The woman paused, horrified at what she'd almost said, "I didn't mean it like that."

"No," the hunter said, "That's okay."

"I'm sorry," Marsha continued, "I just meant…"

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them, "Okay, okay, I'll come over."

"Thank you!" the mother exclaimed, sounding happy and relieved.

"Is it okay if I bring Sammy with me?" Dean asked.

"Yes, of course!" Marsha assured him, "Tori would love to see him again."

Dean listened as the mother gave her the address to her apartment and told her he'd be there in twenty minutes.

The hunter closed his phone and looked at Bobby, "Marsha needs me to watch her daughter while she's at work."

The grizzled hunter raised an eyebrow, "Sure you can do it?"

Dean nodded, "I remember a few tricks from when Sammy and I were kids."

Bobby nodded, his expression doubtful.

"Don't worry," Dean assured him, "I'm a hunter; a five-year old girl will be no problem."

"If you say so?" Bobby replied, "Sam's going with you?"

Dean nodded, peeking out at the living room where his brother was sitting, watching television.

"Call me if anything happens," Bobby asked of Dean and the hunter nodded although he wasn't sure what the older man would do, Bobby had even less experience with kids than he did.

"Hey Sam!" Dean called as he stepped into the living room, "Want to go visit Tori?"

W

Marsha's smile of relief greeted Dean as he and Sam stopped in front of her apartment.

"You didn't have trouble finding the place?" she asked, concernedly and Dean shook his head, "Nope, you give excellent directions."

Marsha chuckled, "Thank you so much for doing this. Really."

Dean waved his hand, "Don't worry about it."

The apartment building wasn't terrible looking but it was clearly old. The building was brown brick with a foyer that had worn and peeling yellow speckled linoleum, off-white walls and a slow elevator.

The hallway outside of individual apartments had the same off-white walls as the foyer but brown carpeting that looked as though it hadn't been cleaned since the nineteen-sixties.

"You don't really have to do anything," Marsha told Dean and stepped aside so he and Sam could come inside.

"Tori's almost ready for bed," the mother said as Dean took in the apartment. It was clean and tidy but just like the rest of the building it could use a fresh coat of pain and new floors.

"SAMMY!" a little girl's voice called and Dean smiled as Tori ran into the small entryway, wearing 'Dora the Explorer' footie pajamas.

Sam, who had been holding Dean's sleeve since exiting the Impala, now dropped his hand and followed the five-year-old as she grasped his fingers and led him into the living room.

"She goes to bed at six-thirty," Marsha told Dean, "She shouldn't be a problem."

"Okay," the hunter said smiled, "Don't worry about it, I looked after Sam when he was little and I remember a thing or two."

Marsha nodded, biting her lip, "I can give you some money for your trouble-"

Dean shook his head, "No way."

Marsha sighed, "I'll call when I'm on my way home."

Dean held the door for Marsha as she slipped out, pausing to call to her daughter, "Bye Tori! You be good for Dean!"

Dean smiled when the girl replied with a distracted, "Bye Mommy!"

"Oh! There's-" Marsha turned and tried to speak to Dean again but he shook his head, "I've got everything under control. You just get to work."

Marsha, blushing slightly, nodded, "Bye."

Dean repeated the farewell and closed the door, engaging the lock afterwards. He sighed and leaned his back against the door for a moment, wondering what he was doing before he stepped into the kitchen that was right off the entryway.

He smiled at the sight of the refrigerator plastered with Tori's drawings, some of what was clearly her and her mother, her and her grandmother, a bright pink horse and someone who looked like a giant compared to the five-year-old's self-portrait. Dean was sure this was a drawing of Tori and Sam together.

On the side of the fridge was a notepad with the title 'Emergency Numbers' with what Dean assumed was Marsha's writing underneath listing the contact for Poison Control, a pediatrician's number, her mother's number and, surprisingly, Dean's.

The hunter stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sam and Tori were sitting side-by-side on the carpet, far too close to the old television set, watching a cartoon cat jump around the screen.

Dean smiled and took a seat on Marsha's couch.

Three more rooms branched off from the living area- Marsha and Tori's bedrooms and the bathroom- to complete the compact apartment.

Dean's cell phone vibrated in his pocket, 'Smoke on the Water' trilling out and he answered it, smiling when Tori looked at him from over her shoulder.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted.

"How're you enjoying being a nanny?" the older hunter asked jokingly.

"I'm just doing a favour," Dean told him, "But it's good so far. Sam and I just got in."

"You know how long you'll be there for?" Bobby asked.

"No," Dean admitted, "Could be all night."

"Hm," Bobby replied, "You sure you can handle it?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "It's Sam and a five-year-old."

"Just call me if you get into trouble," Bobby told him and Dean said he would.

What kind of trouble would I get into? Dean wondered and bade Bobby a goodbye.

The hunter looked up as the cartoon finished and looked at his watch. Tori should probably get to bed now.

"Okay Tori," Dean said and stood, "Time for bed."

The little girl looked up at him with large blue eyes, "Not sleepy."

"How about I read you a story then?" Dean suggested; when Sam had been this age and wasn't ready to sleep, a story usually did the trick of getting him tired enough to finally close his eyes.

"Okay," Tori agreed and stood, tugging at Sam's hand, "C'mon, Sammy."

Dean followed his brother and Tori into the little girl's room and watched as the five-year old crawled into bed, dragging Sam with her so that he sat on the edge of the mattress. Dean looked around and found a well-worn copy of The Secret Garden and opened it up at the bookmark.

W

Tori's eyelids drooped comically and she yawned widely, showing off her baby teeth.

Dean closed the book and set it back where he'd found it.

"Goodnight, Tori," he said and took his brother's wrist.

"Wan' Sammy to stay," the little girl said suddenly, eyes wide.

"Tori," Dean began but hesitated. Having Sam in the room wouldn't really be appropriate but he didn't want to upset the girl.

"Please… I'm scare," the girl whimpered, her lower lip trembling.

"Scared?" Dean asked, "Of what?"

"Monsters," Tori answered seriously.

Dean tried hard not to smile. He knew what to do.

"Monsters, eh? Like the ones under the bed?"

The five-year old nodded and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

"Or in the closet?"

Again, a confirming nod.

Dean smiled now, "You don't have to worry about monsters because we know how to keep them away."

Tori's eyes were wide as she stared at Dean.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah," he assured her, "Come with me and I'll show you."

Tori got up and took one of Sam's hands in her own, the other grasping Dean's as he led his brother and the little girl into the kitchen.

He opened the cupboard over the stove and found exactly what he wanted.

Bringing down the saltshaker he crouched and held it out for Tori to see.

"Salt!" Tori exclaimed, looking curiously at Dean.

"Monsters hate salt," he told her seriously.

Tori's small mouth opened in shock.

"What we do wit' it?" she asked, "Mommy pu's it on eggies for breakfast."

"Come with me and I'll show you," Dean said and took Tori's hand, leading her towards the sliding glass door that led out to the little balcony.

"Not 'llowed to go out there without Mommy," Tori told Dean.

"We don't even need to go outside," the hunter said and crouched down in front of the door.

"All we do is put some salt down like this," he told her and upturned the shaker, creating a line of salt across the doorframe.

Tori watched Dean before staring up at him, "That keeps monsters away?"

"It certainly does," he assured her.

Dean, Tori and Sam went to all the windows and doors in the apartment and the hunter laid down salt lines. Once that was finished, Tori agreed to sleep in her room without Sam.

Before being tucked in, Tori wrapped her arms around Dean and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, surprising the hunter.

W

Dean looked up when the door to the apartment opened and Marsha stepped inside. It was almost one in the morning but that didn't bother him, he was used to staying up late. He smiled as the woman stepped inside.

"How did it go?" Marsha asked, putting her purse down and stepping into the living room.

"Tori was as good as gold," he assured her.

"I hope she didn't give you much trouble about going to bed," Marsha said and Dean shook his head.

"She said she was afraid of monsters," Dean began and Marsha nodded sadly, "She's started that stage… I should have told you. More than once I've had to take her to bed with me because she's been so scared. She didn't ask you to sleep in her room, did she?"

Dean shook his head, "She wanted Sammy to stay."

Marsha raised her eyebrows and peered into the living room, seeing Sam sitting on the couch.

"I showed her something our Dad used to do for Sam and I when we were too frightened to sleep," Dean told her, lying about the origin of the salt across the doors and windows, "It always worked for us."

"Oh," the woman said and Dean told her about putting the salt down.

"Sorry about the mess," he apologized, showing the window ledge covered in tiny, white crystals of salt.

"No, that's okay," Marsha assured him, "Where did your father come up with that?"

Dean shrugged.

"Well, thank you for doing that, Dean," Marsha said, "I'm sorry for asking you all this."

Again, the hunter shook his head, "Don't worry about it. I'm happy to help out a friend."

Marsha nodded, "I guess you're probably tired. Thanks for staying with Tori."

Dean smiled, "No problem."

He turned and went to his brother, Sam himself looked about ready for bed; his eyes were half closed and his chin was nearly resting on his chest.

"I should get Sam to bed," Dean said and gently shook his brother's shoulder, urging him up.

Marsha and Dean said goodnight and the hunter and his brother headed down to the parking lot.

SPN

Marsha slipped her heels off and peered into Tori's bedroom, smiling at the sight of her daughter sleeping peacefully.

Retreating silently, she returned to the living room and crouched down in front of the sliding door that led to the patio.

I thought so, she said to herself and smiled.

Leaving the salt where it was, Marsha headed into her own bedroom and got ready for a few hours of sleep before the call of motherhood would herald another busy day.


	9. Chapter Nine

Let's get one thing straight, Marsha would say if asked to speak about her knowledge the supernatural, I am not a hunter.

She worked in a bar, had worked in the same bar since she was sixteen years old and certainly didn't think of herself as an expert on anything, let alone monsters.

But that wasn't to say that Marsha was not familiar with the world of the supernatural.

Marsha had seen hunters, even talked to them, and despite their rough-around-the-edges appearance and gruff manners, many of them were kindly towards her, especially when she had been a teen. They never stayed in Sioux Falls, always passing through

Although not many hunters were willing to even talk about the supernatural creatures, Marsha vividly remembered the one man who had introduced her to such evils one particularly rainy night when she'd only been a teenager.

W

It had been raining for three weeks straight and everyone in Sioux Falls was cold and damp and miserable.

No one had come into the bar all evening and Marsha was bored. She found herself sitting on one of the stools, talking to the bartender- Nicki- both of them complaining about the Biblical downpour.

Suddenly, in a blast of chilly wind and icy rain, a man stepped inside. He was drenched to the bone- his black hair plastered to his head and his jacket soaked through- but looked happy at least to be inside where it was dry.

The stranger made his way to the back of the bar and took a seat in a booth. Marsha slipped off her stool, grabbed a menu and smiled as she walked towards the customer.

The man had slipped his coat off and was wearing a blue flannel shirt underneath with jeans and boots; Marsha thought he looked like a lumberjack.

"You're a little young to be working in a bar, aren't you?" the man asked in an authoritative voice.

Marsha's smile faded and her heart began to beat faster in her chest, "Uh… I don't serve drinks or anything. Only food."

The man looked up at her with dark brown eyes and smiled through his salt-and-pepper beard, "I have a son around your age… and one a bit younger than you."

"Oh! Do they go to school here? I go to Philander Prescott High School, maybe I've seen your sons," Marsha perked up asked excitedly.

The man though, shook his head, "No, we're just passing through. We're only staying a few days with a friend."

"Oh… okay," Marsha said, "Uh… can I get you something to eat?"

She held the menu out to the man but he shook his head, "I think I'll just have a beer."

Marsha nodded and walked towards the bar to tell Nicki the man's order.

Marsha sighed and returned to her seat, propping her chin up on her hand. Nicki returned and started wiping down the top of the bar with a rag.

"Why don't you call it a night?" he suggested, "I don't think we're going to get anymore people here."

"And listen to my mother harp on me about working here? No thank you," Marsha commented, "I'll stay."

The teen and bartender were quiet, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Excuse me, Miss."

Marsha turned and saw the man looking across the bar at her, "I think I'd like to look at that menu now."

The teen slipped off the stool, picked up a menu and headed over.

"We have the best burgers in Sioux Falls," she said as she handed the laminated menu to the man, "and pickle chips."

The man chuckled, "My eldest would love that."

"We're usually a lot busier," Marsha told the man, "It's just all this rain makes everyone want to stay inside."

The man looked up and nodded soberly.

"Everything's getting flooded," Marsha lamented, "I couldn't even drive my car because the roads were so bad."

"This rain isn't normal," the man said, mostly to himself, Marsha thought, and handed her the menu, "How about a burger?"

"Do you want everything on it?" she asked and the man nodded in a distracted way.

Marsha turned and headed back to the bar. She frowned when she saw she was alone, she didn't see Nicki anywhere.

"Nicki?" she asked, leaning over the bar.

"Corey?" Marsha called, trying to get the cook's attention, "You guys, this isn't fun-"

The girl screamed when Corey suddenly flew through the doorway behind the bar that led to the kitchen and slammed into the counter with a sickening thud.

"COREY!" Marsha screamed as the young man's body flopped over the bar, his throat slashed and gushing blood everywhere.

The teen looked up to see Nicki step through the doorway, a butcher's knife in his hand and a sick smile on his face.

"Hey Marsha," he said, "Corey here wasn't working out, so he had to be fired."

"N-Nicki?" Marsha stammered, terrified, "Wh-what did you d-do?"

The bartender laughed and his eyes turned from their usual brown to pitch black.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be cut too," he told her and lunged over the bar towards her.

Marsha screamed and stumbled backwards, crying out when strong hands gripped her from behind and pulled her even farther away from the bar.

The girl flailed and fell to the floor heavily, staring stunned as the customer charged towards the bar, holding something in his hand.

Nicki laughed again and slashed at the man with the knife, snarling.

Marsha watched as the man punched his hand towards the bartender, minuscule bits of white crystal flying out at Nicki's face. The demon- Marsha learned later that was what that black-eyed creature was- shrieked and clawed at its face as the salt hit it.

Unfortunately, that didn't stop Nicki for long and he grabbed the man's hand holding the saltshaker and ripped it from his grasp.

"Joooohhhn," the bartender hissed, smiling.

Marsha watched as the man reached with his free hand towards the bottles that were sitting on the bar, meaning to hit Nicki with one.

Without even thinking about what she was doing, Marsha scrambled up and ran to the far end of the bar; ducking through the opening and grabbed the biggest bottle of alcohol she could get her hands on. She gripped the neck of the bottle as though it was a baseball bat and shouted the bartender's name, turning the demon's attention on her.

Marsha swung the bottle with all her strength, shattering it against Nicki's face.

The demon screeched and staggered back, releasing its hold on the hunter and giving the man enough time to fight back. The man began speaking quickly, words that were definitely not English and the bartender began to twitch and shriek as though he were being electrocuted.

Marsh watched, horrified as thick black smoke poured from Nicki's mouth and spiraled up to the ceiling, disappearing in a crackle of lightning.

The girl sighed and staggered back, hitting the edge of the bar and sliding down.

"Hey!" the man- John- called and jumped over the bar to her side, "It's okay."

Marsha looked up at the man, stunned and her vision grew dark.

W

By the time Marsha regained consciousness John was gone and she was in Sioux Falls General being treated for shock and some minor cuts to her hands.

She never told anyone about what had happened to Nicki and the bartender himself didn't remember anything- the last thing he could remember was Marsha bringing their single customer a menu and then everything went black- so the police assumed it had been a botched robbery attempt. The man who had been the bar's only customer that night could not be located but the police assured the residents of Sioux Falls that he was likely long gone and wouldn't return.

Marsha, however, never forgot the man who had saved her. She took to carrying a saltshaker around with her everywhere she went- just in case- and later learned that spreading it across windowsills and doorframes kept not only black-eyed demons out but also ghosts, Marsha irritated her mother to no end by warding their house against such monsters without giving a reason for her actions.

Marsha thought about asking another hunter who that man- John- could be, wanting to know more about her savior but something stopped her every time she thought she had gained enough courage to ask. It wasn't her place to ask; the man had saved her and for that she was grateful and she didn't want to pry. She decided to be content with what little she knew of him and soak up all the little tidbits she heard from other hunters about the supernatural world so that she could at least protect her family from monsters like the one that had attacked her.

W

The night Marsha returned after calling Dean to babysit Tori, the mother began connecting the dots.

Dean and Sam were staying with a friend- Bobby Singer- just as the mysterious John and his sons (one of them around Marsha's own age) had been staying with an unnamed friend all those years ago.

It was a long-shot, it really was, Marsha knew, but after seeing Dean's salt lines along the windows and doors and hearing him story about his father doing the same thing to keep away imaginary monsters, the woman felt certain that Dean and Sam Winchester were in fact John's sons.

SPN

Dean smiled when he saw Marsha and Tori the next day, heading towards them in the park.

"Sammy!" the five-year old shouted and ran forwards, straight towards the younger Winchester.

"Hey," Dean called to Marsha and stood, watching as Tori and Sam made their way towards the sandbox.

"Hi," the redhead said, "Dean, can I ask you something?"

W

"I remember that night," Dean said after Marsha had told her all about the demon attack in the bar, "Sammy and I were staying with Bobby. Dad said he was going to the library to do some research on rain spirits but… well, we all knew where he was really going. It was really close to the anniversary of our Mom's death, you see, and Dad always got kind of… sad… around that time."

Marsha nodded, "I'm so sorry."

Dean shook his head, "It happened when we were still little. Don't worry about it."

The mother bit her lip, "So, is your father…"

"He's gone too," Dean told her, "A while ago now."

Marsha reached out and placed her hand on Dean's. The hunter curled his fingers around hers.

"So, Bobby Singer is a hunter too," Marsha said and Dean nodded, "His wife was possessed by a demon."

The woman's eyes grew moist, "That's awful. I feel so guilty for thinking badly of him."

Dean shrugged, "He's pretty thick-skinned."

"Maybe I could meet him some time?" Marsha asked, "Do you think he'd mind?"

Dean shook his head, "No way! He's probably starting to think I've just made you up."

Marsha smiled and turned her gaze towards the sandbox, frowning when she didn't see her daughter or Sam.

"Where are they?" she asked out loud, her heart skipping a beat.

"There," Dean said and pointed to Sam and Tori, walking along the green space beyond the soccer field.

Marsha's frown didn't disappear, "I don't like Tori being that far away. Maybe we should go get them."

The mother made to stand but Dean reached out and touched her arm, "They're okay. If they go any farther we can rein them in."

Marsha looked at Dean in a way that said 'you don't understand because you're not a mother why I need to have my baby close by' but the hunter spoke again, "Sam won't stray too far."

That seemed to put the woman at ease and she and Dean began their conversation again.

W

A shrill scream broke the peace in the park and sent a half dozen mothers' heads snapping up, seeking their children.

Dean looked up and quickly scanned the playground for the source of the cry. No one in the sandbox or soccer field seemed to be hurt, in fact, most of the kids continued playing, ignoring the scream.

Peering past the soccer field towards the green space where he had last seen his brother, Dean stood suddenly; calling Sam's name at the same instant Marsha called her daughter's.

On the other side of the park, Sam and a stranger- a man wearing a jersey of some sort and jeans- were engaged in a tug-of-war with little Tori in the middle.

"SAM!" Dean cried and took off towards his sibling, Marsha screaming Tori's name and following close behind him. Dean charged through the group of kids playing soccer, sending them scattering in his wake but not caring in the least; he needed to get to his brother.

The man in the jersey realized he'd been spotted and quickly dropped Tori's hand, causing the five-year-old to fall back against Sam's long legs, and took off running towards the parking lot.

"HEY!" Dean shouted and sprinted after the man. The stranger was fast but the hunter was faster, Dean reached out and grabbed the back of the man's jersey- a football jersey for his favourite team, no doubt- and yanked him back. The man struggled to get away, throwing a dog leash- sans dog- at Dean but the hunter batted it away and shoved the stranger forward, face first into the hood of a parked car.

"Dean!"

The hunter heard Marsha call his name and turned his attention towards the park again.

The mother was hugging her daughter tightly while other women milled around with their children close, asking questions and staring at Marsha, Sam and Tori.

"Someone call the cops!" Dean called as he trotted back towards his brother, the man having been knocked unconscious and lying prone on the pavement between two parked cars. Dean smiled when he saw almost all the mothers take out their cell phones.

"Sammy," Dean said and reached his brother.

The younger Winchester was shaking, his eyes wide.

Dean reached up and put his hands on either side of his brother's face, "Hey, it's okay buddy. It's alright."

Sam reached up and gripped Dean's forearms, squeezing tightly, shaken.

"Is he okay, Dean?" the older brother heard Marsha ask as he shook his head.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured, pulling his brother close and hugging him, "I've got ya."

The hunter glanced down to where the redhead was cradling her daughter in her arms, rocking the child.

Dean looked up at the other mothers still standing around them, "Did anyone else see what happened?"

Almost a half-dozen hands went up.

"Good," Dean said, then looked at his brother, "C'mon Sammy, let's get you home."

"Dean!" he heard Marsha call his name but continued walking towards the parking lot; he knew he should stay but Sam wouldn't be able to tell the police anything anyway so what was the point. Besides, with Sam so upset as he was it wouldn't do to let it go on too long.

SPN

Marsha watched, stunned, as Dean walked out of the park with his brother.

"Are you alright?" a woman asked and Marsha nodded, "Yeah."

"The police will be here soon," another woman assured her and someone else offered her a bottle of water.

Marsha thanked the woman- Sheila, she thought her name was- and opened the bottle, giving Tori a drink.

The onlookers began to disperse when a police car pulled up onto the lawn of the park and the Sheriff herself stepped out- followed by male officer- the curiser's red and blue lights flashing but the siren silent.

"Marsha Dodd," Sheriff Jody Mills said, "I'd ask how you were but I think we both know you're not alright."

Marsha shrugged, "I could have been a lot worse."

"That the guy over there?" the sheriff asked, tilting her chin in the direction of the man sprawled between two cars in the parking lot.

"Yes," Marsha answered.

"I'm going to deal with him and then come and ask you and your daughter about what happened, okay?" Sheriff Mills said and Marsha nodded.

She watched as the sheriff and the officer head towards the man who was just now waking up.

"Come over here, Honey," Marsha murmured and picked up her daughter, pressing Tori's face against her chest protectively.

SPN

"Dean! You alright, son?" Bobby asked as the younger hunter led his brother into the house quickly, Sam shaking from head to toe.

"I'm fine," Dean said, "Sam…"

"What happened?" the grizzled hunter asked concernedly as Dean sat Sam down on the couch and then took a seat beside his brother, rubbing his back comfortingly.

"We had a bit of a scare at the park," Dean told Bobby and the older hunter's eyes widened, "What kind of scare?"

"Some asshole tried to grab Tori," Dean said and Bobby's mouth opened in shock.

"What?" he asked and Dean nodded.

"Sam wouldn't let her go, though," Dean continued, "From what I could see and she screamed."

Bobby sat down heavily on Sam's other side, "Jesus. Is the tot alright?"

Dean shrugged, "I think so. We didn't stick around. The cops can handle it and they'll have Tori to talk to and about a dozen witnesses."

Bobby, grim-faced nodded.

"I think it just startled Sam," Dean said hopefully, "He'll calm down in a minute or two."

Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's sleeve, pulling himself closer to his brother until his head was resting beneath his older sibling's chin, Dean's other hand still rubbing his back.

SPN

"Can you tell me and Officer Walsh what happened, Sweetie?" Sheriff Mills asked Tori and the little girl nodded, her blue eyes wide.

"Me n' Sammy was walkin'," she began and Jody looked up at Marsha, "Sammy?"

Marsha nodded, "Sam and Dean Winchester. They just arrived a couple of weeks ago and Tori just loves Sam."

"Hm," the Sheriff muttered; Marsha missing the look of recognition in the woman's eyes as she told them the hunters' names.

"Okay," Jody said, "So you were walking with Sam. What happened then?"

Tori laid her head against her mother's chest shyly, "This man come over. He said he lost his doggie. Named Pepper. He wanted me to help him find her."

As the five-year-old spoke, Officer Walsh wrote down her words on a pad of paper.

"I asked iff'n Sammy could come an' help too but he said no," Tori continued, "An' grabbed my hand. Sammy wouldn't leggo. The man pulled me…"

Tears welled up in the girl's eyes, "I wanted my Mommy."

Sheriff Mills smiled, "It's alright. That man isn't going to hurt you, okay?"

Tori nodded and stuck her thumb into her mouth.

"You were such a brave little girl," Jody told her, "You did the right thing."

Tori nodded and spoke around her thumb, "Teacher said to cry iff'n a bad person tried to take you away."

The Sheriff reached out and stroked the child's hair.

"I think I have something special for you," she said and pulled a bright red sucker from her breast pocket, handing it to the girl.

"What do you say?" Marsha prompted her daughter and Tori thanked the sheriff.

"I think that's all we need from you," Jody said, "We'll call in the witnesses to confirm what your daughter said but this looks like a pretty solid case."

Marsha nodded.

"Thank you, Sheriff," she said and the woman tipped her hat to her before turning and heading towards her car, the officer following behind her.

SPN

Once Sam had stopped shaking, Dean led him into the kitchen and began making him lunch.

"You want peanut butter and banana?" Dean asked his brother and Sam just smiled placidly.

"Coming right up," Dean told his sibling and began preparing the sandwich.

He looked up when he heard Bobby's telephone ring but the other hunter answered it so he continued with what he was doing.

He could hear Bobby talking to someone on the other end of the phone but thought nothing of it, instead he sat the constructed sandwich onto a plate and poured a glass of milk for his brother.

Just as Dean was setting Sam's lunch in front of him, Bobby appeared, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Guess who that was," the older hunter said and Dean shrugged, "Rufus?"

Bobby shook his head, "Sheriff Mills. She was asking why she didn't know you and Sam were back in town."

Dean stared at his friend, "I didn't know we had become best buddies with her."

Bobby's eyes pinched, "You helped her with her son. I guess that means a lot to her."

Dean cringed, remembering the zombified child who used to be Sheriff Mill's son, Owen, resurrected by the Horseman, Death, doing Lucifer's dirty work.

"We were just doing our job," he insisted.

"Apparently it was more than that to the Sheriff," Bobby told him.

"So, what are we supposed to do?" Dean asked, "What does the Sheriff want?"

"Wants an explanation," the grizzled hunter told him, "She said she wants to see you and Sam tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp."

"Bobby! We can't! Not with Sam like this!" Dean exclaimed, startling his brother who stopped eating and stared at him with wide green eyes.

"She'll understand about Sam," Bobby told the younger man, "Better than anyone in town."

Dean sighed and looked at his brother, "It's okay, Sammy."

Turning his gaze on Bobby again, he nodded, "I guess."

The older hunter nodded.

"I just wanted to keep a low profile," Dean muttered.


	10. Chapter Ten

Dean did not want to see Sheriff Mills. Especially with Sam the way he was.

He fretted and complained about Jody's summons for the rest of the day, driving Bobby to the brink of insanity.

"Dean! If ya don't want t'see the Sheriff, call her and tell her!" the grizzled hunter snapped, startling Sam who was watching television.

The elder Winchester stopped griping about the Sheriff but didn't call her. He knew he'd have to see her sooner or later. And although he'd prefer later, Dean had an idea that Jody wouldn't appreciate being brushed off.

W

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the Sioux Falls Police Department early the next morning but didn't exit the Impala right away.

Instead he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror before turning to Sam and began fiddling with the collar of his brother's button-up shirt.

The younger Winchester seemed to sense Dean's anxiety and he too became nervous. He reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Dean's leather jacket tightly, trying to pull Dean closer.

The older brother however, pulled Sam's hand away, impatiently, "Not now, Sammy."

He finally climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger's side. Dean sighed when Sam stared up at him, not moving.

"C'mon Sam," Dean grumbled and unbuckled his brother, grabbing his arm and pulling him up.

Sam reached out and took hold of Dean's sleeve, walking almost on top of his brother as they approached the doors to the station.

Dean tried to shake his brother's hand away but to no avail and sighed, resigning himself to the fact that Sam wasn't going to let him go. He paused before opening the door and peered at his brother. Sam's eyes were wide, his face unusually pale; clearly nervous.

"Aw Sammy," Dean murmured, feeling bad for being short with his brother a few minutes ago.

The eldest Winchester took a deep breath and stepped into the police station. It was loud: Dean could hear telephones ringing, cops laughing or shouting at one another, computer keys clacking.

No one paid much attention to the Winchesters; the officers were all focused on their own individual tasks to notice them.

"Uh… Sheriff Mills?" Dean asked a cop who was pounding away on an old desktop computer and the man pointed the brothers in the direction of the Sheriff's office.

Without thanking the man, Dean led Sam in the direction he'd indicated, concerned that the raucous noise would only add to his sibling's anxiety.

Dean felt his own nerves grow as he spotted a frosted-glass door with the name SHERIFF MILLS painted right onto the window.

He reached out and turned the handle, pushing the door open.

Sheriff Mills had her back to the door, talking on the phone.

"I'll call you as soon as I know," she said, "Okay… Goodbye."

Hanging up the phone, the Sheriff seemed to know exactly who was standing in her doorway.

"You've been in town for over two weeks and never bothered to come and… see… me…" Jody turned as she spoke, her eyes going first to Dean and then to Sam, her irritation with the brothers dying instantly.

"Close the door," she said and Dean obliged her.

"Take a seat," Jody offered and watched, as Dean made sure his brother was sitting before taking a seat himself, his arm hanging over the arm of the chair because Sam refused to release his sleeve.

"What happened?" the Sheriff asked, shocked. It was clear even to her that something had happened to the younger Winchester and it wasn't only the sight of Sam clinging to Dean like a toddler that tipped her off. It was his expression; it was… different. Sure he still had those Sam soulful green eyes but there was a new placidity about him that hadn't been there before.

The lights are on but nobody's home; Jody realized then cringed inwardly for the cruel thought.

"Sam stopped the Apocalypse," Dean told her, "But he paid a high price to do it."

The Sheriff nodded, feeling as though the only ones in the world were the three of them. She didn't know what she'd do if one of her officers opened the door just then, to ask something of her. The rock her little boy had painted for her before he'd passed and which she now used as a paperweight, looked very easy to throw.

"Sam was in Hell for eighteen months," Dean continued.

Jody put her hand to her mouth in shock, "Oh my God."

Dean smiled grimly, "But a friend of ours got him out."

"Why… why didn't you tell me he'd… passed, Dean?" the Sheriff asked and the older brother shook his head.

"I stopped hunting," he told her, "I didn't want anything to do with hunting. I didn't even want to think about Sam because knowing what must have been happening to him… I couldn't bear it."

Jody nodded; when her Owen had died, she'd been in shock, nothing and no one else existed and it had been up to her now ex-husband to call their family and friends to tell them the tragic news.

"But I couldn't stop thinking about Sam," Dean muttered, "And even though he'd made me promise not to save him, I asked Cas to find him and get him out."

The Sheriff nodded, she didn't know who Cas was but she felt it'd be wrong to stop Dean to ask questions.

Dean shook his head as though trying to gather his thoughts- or dispel unpleasant ones- and spoke again, "I didn't want you to see Sammy like this. Not many people know what happened and the ones who matter… well, I didn't want them to think of Sam like this. This isn't him… you know that… and I didn't want…"

Dean stopped but Jody nodded, showing that she understood.

"Is he… Will he… get better?" the Sheriff asked carefully, glancing at the younger Winchester with his death-grip on Dean's sleeve.

"Cas wasn't too optimistic," Dean told her, "But I can't just give up. I know Sammy's still in there, somewhere and if I have to wait for months or years for him to be back to n-normal I'm going to."

Jody, feeling tears well up in her own eyes, nodded once and stood up, approaching the brothers.

Sam watched her progress with a bland expression, leaning sideways in his chair in Dean's direction to try and be closer to his brother.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured and patted Sam's arm comfortingly.

The Sheriff smiled but Dean could see it was somewhat forced. She crouched down in front of Sam and laid a hand on his knee.

"Hey Sam," she said quietly, "Do you remember me?"

The younger Winchester peered down at her, his expression passive.

"He hasn't said a word since Cas rescued him," Dean told the Sheriff.

"Oh," Jody replied softly.

She stood slowly and turned to Dean, "Don't be a stranger, alright?"

The eldest Winchester nodded and stood up, pulling Sam with him.

"We should get going," Dean said, "Let you get back to work."

"Yeah," Jody muttered and returned to her desk.

She watched sadly as Dean and Sam left her office.

SPN

Bobby looked up when he heard the Impala's rumbling approach and watched the brothers exit the Chevy.

As soon as they were standing in the driveway, Sam reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Dean's leather jacket.

"Balls," Bobby sighed and went to the door to meet the brothers.

"What did the Sheriff say?" he asked Dean before the young man had even stepped up onto the porch.

The elder Winchester shrugged, "She was shocked… not surprising… she also said not to be a stranger."

Bobby nodded, "So, it wasn't that bad."

Dean sighed and pulled his arm from Sam's grasp, slipping his jacket off and draping it over his arm.

"You goin' to the park today?" the veteran hunter asked curiously.

Dean glanced at his brother and shook his head; "I think we'll take a break from the park today, eh, Sammy?"

Sam, of course, did not reply.

"Well don't just mope around the house all day," Bobby grumbled.

"Are you working on any cars today?" Dean asked, clearly hoping to help.

Bobby shook his head, "I've got some research I have to do."

"Oh," Dean replied, disinterested.

Bobby couldn't help but chuckle, "I thought as much."

Dean sighed and looked at his sibling, "What are we gonna do Sam, since Bobby's not letting us be couch potatoes today?"

"Oh, that reminds me," the grizzled hunter suddenly spoke up, "Yer lady friend called earlier."

"Who? Marsha?" Dean asked, clearly confused, "How's she know your number?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Despite what people think of me, Singer Salvage is actually pretty popular with the locals. It wouldn't take a detective to get ahold of my business number."

"Oh," Dean replied, embarrassed, "Uh, well, did she ask what she wanted?"

Bobby shrugged, "Just to have me tell you to call her when you got in."

Dean frowned, wondering if something was wrong.

"I'd better call her then," Dean muttered, "Do you mind watching Sam for a moment?"

Bobby shook his head and took the younger man by the elbow, leading him into the house.

SPN

Dean remained on the porch, pulling his cell phone out and dialed Marsha's number.

The phone rang once before the mother answered.

"Dean? How was your meeting with the Sheriff- Mr. Singer told me that's where you were- how do you know her?" Marsha asked curiously.

"Uh… Sam and I helped her out a couple of years back," Dean answered vaguely, "Listen, is something wrong? Is Tori alright?"

"Oh, yes, she's fine," Marsha answered, "Actually, I was calling to ask if you and Sam wanted to come over to my place tonight for dinner. It's nothing special… just a thank you for saving Tori."

Dean reached up with his free hand and scratched the back of his head, "Really? No, you don't have to do that, Marsha."

"Please? I want to, and Tori has been asking after Sam all day," the redhead said.

"I don't know," Dean replied, hedging.

"What? Is it too soon? I swear it's completely casual, just between friends."

Dean sighed, "Your place is kind of small…"

"You are not going to get out of this, Dean!" Marsha exclaimed, chuckling.

The woman's mirth was infectious and Dean felt himself grinning, "Okay, okay, you win… on one condition…"

"What?" Marsha asked curiously.

"Come over here," Dean said, "Bobby's got a huge backyard and a barbeque and everything. And, you still haven't met the old man himself yet."

"Alright, deal," Marsha said, "Do you want me to bring anything? If we're having barbeque-"

"We've got tons of food here," Dean assured her, "We'll get something together."

"Should I bring something though? I'd feel bad coming empty-handed," the mother asked and Dean quickly thought back to his year with Lisa and the usual offerings of food she would insist on bringing if they ever went out to someone's place, "A salad?"

"Great," Marsha said, "Should we come at a particular time?"

Dean shrugged but replied, "Whenever you feel like it."

Marsha laughed, "You're really not used to making dinner dates are you?"

"Nope," Dean replied, smiling.

"Okay, I'll see you later," the redhead said and ended the connection.

Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket and pushed open the front door, "Hey, Bobby!"


	11. Chapter Eleven

"I hope we're not to early," Marsha said apologetically as she stood on Bobby's front porch, her young daughter at her side, "But Tori couldn't wait to come."

Dean shook his head, smiling, "No, that's okay."

He took a step back and the women entered the house. Tori peered around curiously, one hand gripping her mother's skirt while the other was pressed against her lips, her thumb in her mouth.

"I brought a potato salad," the red-haired woman said and lifted a glass bowl full of the creamy side dish.

"Thanks," Dean said and took the salad, "I hope hamburgers are okay."

Marsha smiled, "Perfect. We love burgers, don't we, Honey?"

Tori looked up at her mother, "Where's Sammy?"

"He's in the backyard with Bobby," Dean answered, "I can take you to him."

Tori nodded and took Dean's hand. The hunter led the little girl and her mother through the living room to the screen door that led to the backyard.

"Sammy!" Tori called and ran outside, heading straight towards the young man sitting on the old picnic bench Bobby had.

The little girl clambered onto the bench and wrapped her short, chubby arms around Sam.

Dean smiled at the sight of the child cuddled up to his brother. They certainly made an odd pair: Sam, tall and lanky, wearing jeans and a beige and red button-up shirt and Tori, red-haired and cherubic, clad in a pink sparkly dress, purple plastic sandals and pink tights.

Bobby looked up as Dean and Marsha stepped outside.

"Nice to finally meet you," the grizzled hunter said, holding his hand out to the woman, "Dean's told me a lot about you."

Marsha smiled and shook Bobby's hand, "Only good things I hope."

The hunter chuckled and winked, making Marsha laugh out loud.

"Mommy!" Tori called and borke away from Sam, running towards the adults, "Can I play with Sammy?"

"Of course," her mother answered and slipped the cloth bag she had brought along, off her shoulder and handed it to her daughter.

"I brought some of Tori's toys along," she told Bobby and Dean as the little girl dragged the bag along the ground behind her as she headed back towards Sam.

Dean smiled as he watched Tori grab Sam's hand, tugging him up and over to a patch of grass. Sitting down and crossing her legs, Tori began pulling out pink plastic saucers and teacups and a teapot. She set the plastic dishes out in front of herself and Sam, humming tunelessly as she did so. Next she pulled out a stuffed rabbit and a blue plastic pony with a stringy yellow mane and tail, sitting them on either side of her so that the tea party had four guests altogether.

Dean shook his head, laughing and turned to Bobby and Marsha.

"You want something to drink?" the grizzled hunter asked the redhead.

"What do you have?" Marsha asked, smiling and seemingly completely at ease.

"Beer," Bobby answered, "But if yer not much of a drinker we also have soda."

"A cold Coca-Cola sounds good right about now," Marsha said.

"Coming right up," Dean told her and headed back into the house.

SPN

Bobby decided he like Marsha Dodd the instant he met her. She seemed like a very easy-going, down-to-earth woman and her daughter was a real sweet pea. Bobby knew that both Dodd women would be good for the Winchester boys.

He glanced over at Sam just as Marsha turned her attention to Tori. The younger Winchester looked completely out of place having pretend tea with a little strawberry blonde-haired girl. Tori didn't seem to mind that Sam wasn't participating in the charade; she just chatted away, pouring invisible tea for all three of her guests and giggling as she imagined one of the said something humorous.

Bobby turned his attention away from Sam and Tori as Dean approached, glass of Coke in hand.

Marsha took the offered beverage from the older Winchester, thanked him and turned back to watch her daughter and Dean's brother.

"I'd better get those burgers started or we'll never eat tonight," Bobby said and walked to the far end of the deck to where his ancient barbeque sat.

SPN

"Since I've met Bobby," Marsha said as she sat across the picnic table from Dean, "I think it's only fair that you meet my mother."

Dean scowled, "Really?"

Marsha though laughed, "No! Of course not! She'd flip if I brought you and Sam to dinner!"

Dean sighed, relieved.

"I think my Dad would have liked you though," Marsha said, her tone more reserved.

"Yeah?" Dean asked and Marsha nodded.

"He traveled a lot," she said, "He was a long-haul truck driver."

Dean raised an eyebrow. Marsha had never mentioned her father in their conversations together, only her mother. And Dean, with his own history, had felt it would be inappropriate to ask about the woman's father.

"It seemed like he was never around," Marsha continued and Dean nodded, "I know what that feels like."

The redhead smiled, "Whenever he came home I got so excited, he was always so great to me."

"What happened to him?" Dean asked cautiously.

Marsha sighed, "I was fourteen when he died. It was just before Christmas when we got the call. His truck had hit a patch of black ice on the highway and overturned."

Dean's eyes pinched in sympathy, "I'm sorry."

Marsha shrugged, "It was a long time ago. Besides, I try and think of all the time I did get to spend with him."

The redhead took a long drink of her Coke then smiled, "Let's talk about something less depressing. We're supposed to be having a party!"

W

The hamburgers looked delicious. Dean couldn't wait to dig in- and try Marsha's potato salad, of course- but it would have to wait while he made sure Sam ate.

Tori had insisted on sitting right beside Sam, her stuffed rabbit in her lap, while Marsha sat directly across from her.

Dean, sitting beside Sam, eyed his sibling as he slowly munched away on his burger. The older brother had contemplated cutting the meat up, not wanting to have Sam choke but then decided against it. He knew what to do in case of an emergency, and with Sam eating so slowly the chances of him trying to breathe hamburger instead of oxygen was slim. Tori, still only little, had her own burger cut into bite-sized pieces, which she dipped into ketchup before popping into her mouth.

"This is just great," Marsha praised, "You really know your way around a barbeque, Bobby."

The grizzled hunter smiled and Dean could have sworn he was even blushing a bit beneath his ruddy beard.

"Mister?" Tori's voice suddenly piped up as she peered across the table at the veteran hunter.

"Yes, Hon?" he said, looking at the child.

"Are you Santa Claus?" she asked and Marsha reached across the table to her daughter.

"Tori," the woman said but Bobby just smiled at her.

"Yes I am," he said and the little girl's eyes widened in shock.

"Why you here an' not at the North Pole?" she asked, staring at Bobby.

"Even Santa Claus needs a vacation every now and again," the veteran hunter chuckled.

Tori grinned from ear to ear, clearly over the moon that she was actually having supper with Santa Claus.

Marsha's eyes met Bobby's and the veteran hunter just smiled at her. The mother smiled back though it was somewhat less genuine.

W

After dinner, while Bobby, Dean and Marsha cleaned up, Tori and Sam went back to playing.

"I didn't mean to overstep any bounds, if that's what you're thinking," Bobby told Marsha, "It didn't seem fair though to tell the child that I wasn't who she thought I was."

The mother shook her head, "No, that's not it. I'm glad you said it, that'll make Tori very happy."

Dean, coming through the door carrying a handful of glasses, looked at Marsha, confused:

"Christmas isn't exactly your favourite time of year?"

Marsha smiled self-consciously, "Yeah… I'm happy around Tori so she won't know but still… It's the time of year I miss my Dad the most."

Dean nodded, "I know how you feel. When my Mom died, November second was always the worst for us."

Marsha sighed, "Here I go again, making everybody sad. I don't know what is wrong with me today."

Dean shook his head, "Don't worry about it."

Marsha nodded and smiled again.

"I should get Tori," she said and headed outside, Dean and Bobby following.

"C'mon Honey! Say goodbye to Sam!" Marsha called and Tori jumped up, grabbing her toys and rushing to her mother's side.

"Tori, you forgot your bunny," the mother said and Dean saw that Sam was sitting on the grass, Tori's stuffed rabbit toy on his lap.

"I'm givin' it to Sammy," the little girl told them matter-of-factly.

"Why?" Marsha asked, crouching down so that she was eye-to-eye with her daughter.

"Mr. Flopsy can help 'tect Sammy," Tori said simply.

"From what?" Dean asked, now turning his attention to the little girl.

Tori turned her wide blue eyes to Dean, "He's 'fraid the bad man will get him. The bad man likes the dark an' Sammy's 'fraid of the dark."

Dean frowned, looked at Bobby and saw the grizzled hunter mirroring his expression.

"Who… Who told you that?" Dean asked, feeling his heart speed up.

"Sammy did," Tori said simply and began walking towards the screen door that led into the house.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Nobody said anything for a moment, shocked by the child's pronouncement.

Then, Dean was moving forward, headed straight towards his sibling.

"Dean!" Bobby called but the younger man ignored him completely.

Sam could talk! Sam was talking!

He had to hear it for himself.

Dean stopped in front of his brother, towering for a second over his younger sibling made shorter by his seated position, then Dean crouched down and laid his hands on Sam's upper arms.

"Talk!" Dean demanded, "Speak! Say something!"

Sam just stared, wide-eyed at Dean and said nothing.

"Speak! Say something, damn it!" Dean shouted, shaking his brother as he did so.

"Stop it! Don't hurt Sammy!"

The young man froze as Tori's voice called out. Releasing his brother, Dean stood and started walking forward.

"We're going," Marsha said, tugging on her daughter's hand; Tori's fingers stretched out towards her friend, her chin trembling.

"Marsha," Dean said, "Don't, it's not what it looks like."

But the woman simply turned her back to him and led her daughter around the side of the house to the driveway without another word.

Dean sighed and glanced over at his brother to see Sam staring at him.

"What are you looking at?"

SPN

Bobby watched as Dean stormed into the house, slamming the screen door after himself.

Sighing and running a hand down his face, the veteran hunter turned his attention to the youngest Winchester.

Sam was staring into the space where Dean had just been, a 'kicked-puppy' expression on his face.

Crossing the yard, Bobby hunkered down in front of the young man, "Ah son, you know yer brother. He'll get over this an' feel like a right idjit for a few days."

Sam turned his green eyes on Bobby and gave a ghost of a smile.

"Let's go inside," the grizzled hunter said and picked up the toy rabbit and Sam's hand.

"Bobby."

The hunter froze.

The voice, rough and whispery from disuse had uttered the same name it had spoken a thousand times, the voice so familiar and welcome that Bobby felt his heart clench in his chest and tears well up in his eyes.

SPN

"Goddamn it!" Dean swore as he stalked into the kitchen, kicking a chair away from the table and raising his hands to grip his short-cropped hair in frustration.

Sam was talking!

Sam could still talk.

But getting Sam to say anything to him? Oh, no that would be too easy wouldn't it?

Dean lowered his hands and sighed, rubbing his face irritably.

I wouldn't want to talk to me either, after what I just did; Dean thought and his shoulders slumped.

He shouldn't have shaken his brother. He shouldn't have crowded in on Sam and ordered him to speak. What the hell had he been thinking?

Just because Sam had said a few words to a little girl did not mean that he was back to his usual pain-in-the-ass self. The very words he had relayed to Tori- about the bad man and the dark- were a clear sign that Sam still had a long way to go before (and if) he recovered from what had happened to him in the Cage.

And to top it all of, Dean had pissed off Marsha.

Feeling guilty that the woman and her child had seen him act like a complete asshole, Dean grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and decided to make amends before this thing could stew.

The phone rang and rang and rang- Marsha and Tori clearly still not home yet (or, if they were, the woman was ignoring her phone)- before going to voicemail:

"Hey, this is Marsha and Tori! We're not home right now but if you leave your name and a message, we'll get back to you as soon as possible!"

Dean closed his eyes, took a deep breath and began to speak, "Marsha… listen… I'm sorry. About what happened with Sam. Normally I'm not like that. At all. I'd never do anything to hurt him, I just got… excited, is all. I know you don't really understand but after Sam's… accident… all I wanted was for him to get better and now that he is… I felt like I needed to rush it. I mean, he talked! He actually talked to Tori! I guess I was feeling a little jealous about that and for that I'm sorry. Tori's been great for Sam; what just happened proves that and, well, please don't walk out on us… Okay? I know we haven't known each other for very long but… I really care about you. And Tori. Look, if you're still mad at me, I understand. But I didn't mean to be an asshole. You've seen me with Sam, at the park, and know I'm not like that. I just… well, I just lost myself for a moment… if you knew what he'd been through-"

Dean's heartfelt message was cut off by Marsha's answering machine letting out a long, irritated beep, signaling that he couldn't leave such a lengthy communication.

Closing his phone, Dean decided that all he could do was wait for Marsha to call him back.

He looked up when he saw Bobby leading Sam into the house. He smiled but the grizzled hunter did not return the gesture.

"You got it all out of yer system?" Bobby asked cautiously, prying Sam's hand loose from his sleeve as he spoke.

Dean nodded, "Yeah… Sorry. It's just… Sam's talking now and I wanted to hear him…"

Bobby's lips pursed, "Well, don't go hounding him. When he feels up to it, he'll talk to ya."

Dean nodded, feeling sheepish. He approached his brother and was shocked and saddened to find that when he came close, Sam gripped Bobby's shirtsleeve again and stepped behind the older man, as though trying to hide behind him.

"Sammy," Dean breathed, hurt by his sibling's rejection but knowing he deserved it.

He held out a hand and placed it over Sam's fist gripping the veteran hunter's shirt. Carefully, slowly, Dean uncurled Sam's fingers and squeezed his hand, smiling, close-lipped.

"Hey buddy," he murmured, "It's okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Sam gazed at Dean for a long moment, his expression wary before giving a ghost of a smile back to his older brother and stepping forward, following his sibling into the living room.

Dean noticed that in Sam's other hand, he was clutching the toy rabbit- Mr. Floppy or whatever Tori had called it- and felt a wave of guilt pass through him.

SPN

Marsha Dodd sighed in an exasperated way as she unlocked the door to her apartment and ushered Tori inside. The little girl had asked after Sam the entire ride back home, wondering if he was okay and Marsha had assured her daughter that he was- though she wasn't so sure after seeing Dean shake him like he had- not really wanting to think about the Winchester brothers anymore.

"I'm gonna draw a pict-ter!" Tori announced and toddled into the living room where paper and crayons were already sitting out on the coffee table from earlier that day.

Marsha glanced at her phone and saw the red voice mail light blinking, indicating she had a message. Knowing it was going to be Dean, she erased it without even listening to it and took a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

Leaning against the counter, Marsha gulped down a mouthful of the ice-cold liquid and shivered.

Dean hadn't really told her what had happened to her brother; an accident, that was all he'd said and Marsha had been too tactful to pry. Brain damage, she remembered thinking as she watched Sam play with Tori, some sort of head injury that led to brain damage.

But now she wasn't so sure. Especially after what Tori had said. A bad man? Who liked the dark? What the heck did that mean? What had happened to Sam, exactly?

"Mommy!" Tori's high-pitched voice drew Marsha from her thoughts about the younger Winchester and she looked up to see her daughter holding a picture.

Marsha frowned and knelt down, taking the drawing from her daughter. Unlike Tori's other creations, this one was decidedly darker: there were two figures in it, one, who was indistinguishable as either a man or woman surrounded by yellow- perhaps light- and had large wings spreading out from its shoulders. The second figure, Marsha was sure, was male, with long, dark brown hair and green eyes. Tori had drawn this figure's mouth hanging open in what appeared to be a scream, large blue tears dripping down his face. His clothes, Marsha saw, were what could have been blue jeans and a plaid button-down shirt stained bright red. The area around the two figures had been coloured black.

"T-Tori?" Marsha asked, feeling her mouth go dry, "W-who is this? Why did you draw this?"

The little girl, her expression serious, spoke.

"It's Sammy, Mommy," she said, "And the bad man."

Marsha closed her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe normally. Her hands clenched into fists, crumpling her daughter's disturbing drawing.

"Mommy!" Tori cried and Marsha opened her eyes to see her daughter's chin trembling.

"What did he tell you?" Marsha asked, her heart rate picking up, "Victoria, what did Sam tell you?"

The little girl took a step back, anxious.

"B-Bad man," she muttered, "Hurted Sammy."

Marsha reached out one hand, wanting a different answer, wanting a better answer because this drawing she held clearly was more detailed than what her daughter was revealing. Instead, before she did something she'd regret, Marsha stood and shoved the paper into the drain, turning on the garborator and listened as it made short work of her daughter's creation.

"Mommy!" Tori cried, reaching up towards the sink and her ruined picture.

"We are not going to see the Winchesters again," Marsha said sternly, "You are not going to see Sam again."

Something was not right with those two brothers and Marsha did not want her young daughter around them any longer. She didn't know exactly who had told Tori about Sam, to make her draw such a picture, but it was clear that the Winchesters were a bad influence.

"No Mommy!" Tori nearly screamed, chin shaking and large tears forming in her eyes, "No! Want Sammy!"

Tori suddenly threw herself on the floor and began kicking and punching, in the midst of a tantrum unlike which her mother hadn't seen since she'd hit the 'Terrible Twos'.

Marsha jumped, startled, when the phone suddenly ran and she grabbed it, "What?"

"Is that any way to greet your mother?"

Marsha relaxed; she'd thought it was Dean.

"Sorry Mom, no, I thought you were someone else."

"Hm," her mother replied, "I'm coming over in a few minutes, just thought I should let you know."

"Uh… Mom, it's not really a good time-" Marsha began, one finger in her ear to try and hear her mother on the other end of the phone over Tori's crying.

"Nonsense! I hardly get to see you or Victoria."

Marsha sighed, "Alright, but just so you know, Tori's not in the best of moods right now."

"Oh, so that's what that racket on your end is? I though you just had the television on too loud again."

"No," Marsha said lamely, wishing now that she hadn't answered the phone.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," her mother told her, "And Victoria had best have smartened up by then."

Marsha rolled her eyes and hung up the phone.

"NO! Want Sammy! SAMMY!" Tori cried, large tears dripping down her red cheeks.

Marsha bent down and grabbed the girl beneath the armpits, lifting her. Tori began to beat her small fists against her mother's chest and shoulders; eyes squeezed shut as she continued to wail.

"Nana is coming to visit, Tori!" Marsha exclaimed, trying to distract her child with the prospect of a visit from her grandmother, "How does that sound?"

"Want. Sammy. Now." Tori protested, hitting Marsha in the chest with each word.

Sighing, Marsha carried Tori into the living room and set her on the couch, turning on the television and changing the station to a children's channel.

Tori, however, didn't want to watch TV. She flopped down onto her belly and continued to cry, though it was quickly becoming less and less violent.

Turning away from her daughter, Marsha returned to the kitchen, peering into the sink and saw with satisfaction that Tori's disturbing picture had been completely destroyed.

Looking into the fridge, Marsha grabbed a cold, green bottle of carbonated water- her mother's favourite- and set it out in anticipation for her arrival. Next she poured some crackers onto a plate and cut some cheddar cheese, knowing that she and Tori probably wouldn't eat any- since they'd just had dinner- but knew her mother expected it.

Marsha jumped again- why was she so nervous- when the doorbell rang.

"Tori, Nana's here," she called into the living room as she went to the front door and opened it.

Her mother stood there for a moment as though she'd been waiting hours for her to answer before stepping inside.

"How are you, Mom?" Marsha asked, taking her mother's coat for her and hanging it in the closet.

"Oh, fine, fine," Mrs. Dodd commented, walking past her daughter in a cloud of lavender-scented perfume and called out to Tori.

"Victoria! Where's my granddaughter?"

The five-year old walked out from the living room, her fact blotchy and her eyes red-rimmed, clearly not as excited as she usually was upon seeing her grandmother.

"Come and give your Nana a hug," Marsha's mother instructed, holding out her arms.

Tori stepped forward slowly, sniffing and wiped her nose in her sleeve before hugging her grandmother.

"I have some cheese and crackers if you're hungry," Marsha told her mother and Mrs. Dodd looked at her.

"You've already eaten?"

The younger woman nodded, "We went out to eat."

"Not at one of those horrible diners downtown? Victoria should only eat wholesome, home-cooked food."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Marsha shook her head, "No, we, uh, ate at someone's house."

Mrs. Dodd smiled, "Oh? Was it that young man you were telling me about? What was his name…"

"I didn't tell you his name," Marsha reminded her mother, "And besides, it doesn't matter now. We're not together or anything. In fact, I don't think I'm going to see him anymore."

The three Dodds walked into the living room, the eldest looking concernedly at her daughter, "Why not? There's a shortage of young men in this town, Marsha, don't throw away a perfectly good change to-"

"It wasn't working out," Marsha said irritably, "Now, can we stop talking about it?"

Her mother sniffed and sat down on the couch. Marsha glanced at the paper and crayons on the coffee table but didn't see anymore inappropriate pictures. Tori plopped down at the table and grabbed a crayon, scribbling on a piece of paper.

Marsha went into the kitchen to grab the snacks and heard her mother talking to Tori.

"What are you drawing Victoria?"

"Sammy," the mother heard her daughter mutter and she ground her teeth together.

"Who's Sammy?" Mrs. Dodd asked and Marsha stepped into the room, setting the plate of cheese and crackers right on top of her daughter's drawing.

Tori looked up at her, eyes wet but didn't cry. Instead she pulled a blank piece of paper out from underneath the plate and continued to draw.

Marsha leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes.

"Dear, are you feeling alright?" her mother asked and she nodded, "Yeah, Mom. I'm okay."

"If you want me to take Victoria for the night, I can," Mrs. Dodd asked and Marsha opened her eyes.

"No," she said, "It's alright, Mom."

Mrs. Dodd shrugged and opened the bottle of water, taking a dainty sip.

"Mrs. Feldman broke her hip last week and her replacement is completely useless," Mrs. Dodd said, "Couldn't file a book on a shelf if her life depended on it. If you wanted I could put in a word for you-"

Marsha shook her head, "No, Mother, we've been over this a thousand times. I don't want to work at the library."

"Hm," her mother sniffed, "We'll I can't see you working at that bar when you're my age. I always worry about you, especially after what happened when you-"

Marsha leaned forward; she knew her mother was talking about the night Nicki had killed Corey the cook and attacked her.

"That was years ago," she said, "I was just a kid. I know how to take care of myself now."

"Well, you never know these days, do you? With the kinds of hooligans that get hired at places like that."

"Can we please talk about something else?" Marsha asked desperately. She didn't want to think about demons or hunters or John Winchester or his sons.

"Why aren't you seeing that boy you seemed so smitten with just a few weeks ago?"

Marsha growled and stood, "You don't quit, do you? It's just 'you should have' 'you could have' 'why didn't you' all the damn time! Why can't you just keep out of my business, Mother? Huh, is it because you failed as a parent that you need to make sure I don't make the same mistakes!"

Mrs. Dodd stared at her daughter, dumbstruck.

"Marsha Violet Dodd," she said, "I've never…"

"I have to go," Mrs. Dodd announced and stood and made her way quickly to the front hall.

Marsha followed her mother, watching irritably as she took her coat from the closet and shrugged it over her shoulders.

Without saying a word, Mrs. Dodd left the apartment, slamming the door after herself.

"Mommy?" Marsha heard her daughter's voice and she saw Tori standing beside her, holding a picture up.

This picture featured Marsha and Tori but it also had figures that were clearly supposed to be Sam and Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer. They were all standing in a line, holding hands with smiles on their faces. A smiling yellow sun shone brightly down on the happy figures from one corner of the picture.

Marsha reached down and took the picture. She stared at it for a long moment before she felt tears well up in her eyes and she dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around her daughter.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Dean stared at the television without actually watching the show it was playing. Sam was sitting right beside him, Tori's stuffed rabbit in one hand, and seemingly entranced by the cartoon characters dancing across the screen.

Dean just wanted his brother to talk to him.

He wasn't going to push his sibling though, knowing that if he did, Sam would only clam up even more and never talk to him.

Dean was just so excited… so happy that Tori had somehow managed to get through to Sam when he couldn't and maybe, just maybe he was finally starting to get better.

Dean didn't kid himself though, he was sure they still had a long way to go before Sam was his normal, pain-in-the-ass self, if he ever was again. There was a good chance that the Sam who had taken a swan dive into the Cage was gone forever and a new Sam had taken his place.

Dean shook his head. At least he had his brother. The months he'd spent with Lisa and Ben, well aware that his brother was in Hell, being tortured mercilessly had been the worst months of Dean's life.

The older brother jumped in his seat when he felt a tug on his sleeve and glanced over to see Sam with his hand on his arm.

"What's up, Sammy?" Dean asked and his younger sibling bowed his head, leaning forward.

Dean reached out and ruffled his brother's long hair, smiling.

He just wanted to hear his brother speak again, but he knew better then to push Sam, not only would it upset his sibling, it would piss Bobby off… and Dean certainly didn't want to be on the grizzled hunter's bad side.

Dean was surprised when Sam stood, gave him a long look and then began walking towards the front door.

"Sam? Sammy!" Dean called and jumped up, hurrying to his brother's side and took his elbow, steering him back towards the couch.

"C'mon and sit down, Sammy," Dean murmured, "Let's watch cartoons or something, okay?"

Sam grabbed Dean's sleeve with his free hand and stared at him.

"What? Sammy, what do you want?" Dean asked. His brother was rarely so animated and it was kind of making Dean nervous.

Sam looked at Dean, his green eyes wide, and spoke, finally spoke in front of him.

"Park."

The voice was hoarse and whispery but unmistakably Sam's. Dean felt tears prick the corners of his eyes but he shook his head, "It's too late for the park, Sammy."

"Park."

Sam's hand tightened in Dean's sleeve insistently.

"Sammy," Dean murmured as he realized why his brother suddenly wanted to go to the park, "Tori's not going to be there."

He had no idea if his brother actually understood what he was saying but he felt he needed to explain things to Sam.

"It's too late," Dean told him, "We can go tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, "T-Tomorrow?"

Dean smiled, "Yeah, Sammy. We can go to the park tomorrow."

Sam's hand dropped away from Dean's sleeve, a dejected expression on his face.

"Aw Sammy," Dean murmured and hugged his brother, upset when his sibling did not reciprocate the gesture.

The older Winchester looked up as Bobby came inside, plates from dinner balanced in his hands. The grizzled hunter raised a curious eyebrow at the young man, "Something the matter?"

Dean nodded, "Sammy wants to go to the park. I think he's missing Tori."

Bobby's lips thinned, "What'd you tell 'im?"

"That we'd go tomorrow. I called Marsha earlier but she hasn't gotten back to me," Dean told the veteran hunter.

"Guess we'll just have to see how long she can stay pissed at you," Bobby commented, walking past the Winchesters and into the kitchen.

Dean looked at his sibling, "Yeah."

W

The older Winchester heaved a tired sigh and flopped down on the couch.

"Sam's asleep?" Bobby asked from where he sat at his desk, beer in hand as he flipped through an old dusty tome.

Dean nodded, "Finally. He wouldn't let me leave him alone."

Bobby's expression became one of concern.

"He's never done that before, has he?"

Dean shook his head, "Sure, he's sometimes had trouble getting to sleep but he's never really forced me to stay. I usually just do anyway to make sure he goes to sleep."

"He's had a bit of a stressful evening," Bobby reminded Dean, "He'll be fine in the morning."

The younger man nodded though he could tell from the tone of Bobby's voice that the grizzled hunter didn't exactly believe his own words.

SPN

Bobby watched silently as a frustrated Dean Winchester tried to get his brother to eat breakfast.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean urged, "You've got to eat."

The younger sibling refused even a mouthful, turning his head away, Tori's stuffed rabbit toy clutched against his chest as though to ward off evil.

Dean sighed and pressed a hand to his brother's brow.

"He's not warm," he muttered, looking to Bobby.

"Maybe he's just not hungry," the grizzled hunter suggested, "You can always try again later."

Dean nodded and grabbed the bowl of cereal Sam had refused to eat, dumping the soggy mess down the drain in the sink.

Bobby looked at the younger Winchester, Sam meeting his gaze and said one word:

"Park."

SPN

Dean sighed, checking his watch as he sat beside his brother on the bench, waiting to see if Marsha and her daughter would arrive.

He and Sam had only been at the park for about forty-five minutes but already he was ready to head back to the Salvage Yard. He had a feeling Marsha wasn't going to show up.

Dean had brought some juice boxes along, as he usually did and managed to get Sam to drink one, hoping that his brother would be ready to eat when they returned home.

"I don't think Tori's coming today, Sammy," Dean told his sibling.

Sam just looked at him unblinking, juice box straw in his mouth as he continued to drink.

W

Dean frowned as he practically dragged Sam through Bobby's front door, his brother fighting him every step of the way.

"Park," Sam muttered, "Park."

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean snapped, "We were just there!"

Bobby, who had been sitting at his desk, stood up and approached the Winchesters, a concerned expression on his face.

"The Hell's going on, Dean?" he asked as the older brother released his sibling's wrist and locked the front door.

"Big surprise," Dean growled, "Marsha and Tori didn't show up to the park. We were there for almost two hours and when I told Sam it was time to leave, he wouldn't leave."

Sam stared intently at the door, as if he could make it open simply by force of will. His body language told Bobby that he was stressed; his shoulders were tense, his posture rigid, his hands clenched into fists.

"I told him we'd go back tomorrow," Dean continued, "But I wasn't going to sit there any longer."

"Park," Sam muttered and stepped forward, his progress impeded suddenly when Dean reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

Dean looked to Bobby, his expression tired, "He doesn't understand; I can't make him understand that Tori's not going to come to the park."

The veteran hunter frowned, "Maybe you should call Marsha again, maybe she didn't get yer last message."

Dean nodded then hesitated.

"I'll watch Sam," Bobby assured him, "See iffn I can get 'im to eat."

"Thanks," the older Winchester murmured gratefully and let go of his sibling, making his way into the living room, taking his cell phone from his pocket as he did so.

SPN

Bobby watched Sam for a moment as the young man raised a hand and laid it against the door. He didn't know what Dean was worried about, it was clear that Sam wouldn't be able to open the door by himself, even if he wanted to.

"C'mon son," the veteran hunter encouraged, one hand on Sam's forearm, "C'mon with me."

Sam turned to look at Bobby for a moment before he muttered the grizzled hunter's name and followed him into the kitchen.

W

"Damn it!"

Bobby looked up at the sound of the older Winchester's exclamation and scowled. Sam turned his head in the direction of his brother's voice, completely forgetting about the peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting in front of him on a saucer.

"Any luck?" Bobby asked from his seat beside Sam.

Dean shook his head as he stepped into the kitchen and went to the fridge, grabbing a beer.

"No, I got her voicemail again and left a message," he explained, "Hopefully she'll call me back."

Bobby nodded before turning his attention back to Sam.

"C'mon son," he urged, "Just one bite."

Sam, however, had lost whatever interest he had had in his lunch and was now staring at Dean, unblinking.

"Sammy," Dean said and took a seat across the table from his sibling, "Come on, man, you've got to eat."

The younger brother looked away from Dean, tilting his head so that he was instead staring at the tabletop.

"Sam!" Dean said, his tone authoritative, hoping that would get his brother's attention.

Bobby almost smiled when Sam didn't even flinch. The young man just continued to look at the top of the grizzled hunter's worn table, his expression docile.

"Son," Bobby spoke up, reaching out and laying a hand on Sam's arm, "Sam?"

Dean glowered across the table at Bobby, "He can talk, hell, he even told Tori enough about the Cage and Lucifer and he's still… still…"

The older brother didn't know exactly what to say, instead he waved his hand in Sam's direction, his expression irritated.

Bobby leveled his gaze at Dean, "Yeah, Sam's talking again but have you heard him string together a sentence yet? Or say more than just one word at a time?"

"No," Dean muttered.

"You knew Sam wasn't magically going to be back to his old self- back to normal- one day, did you?" the veteran hunter asked and Dean shook his head.

"So? Why are you expecting Sam now to be normal just 'cause he can say a few words?"

Dean opened his mouth- probably about to make some snarky remark- but then closed it, looking chagrinned.

"I…" he began, "I thought that Tori was helping Sam, helping him get better-"

"And she is!" Bobby interrupted, "But it'll take time, son. Sam was in Hell for eighteen months, after all. Think of how long it took you to get yer wits about you after only four months."

Dean nodded, biting his lip, "Yeah… I remember."

"Sam can talk," Bobby continued, "And that's a big leap forward but we can't push him or pressure him too much or he'll stop making progress."

Dean glanced at his sibling, "But Tori's gone."

"Maybe not forever," Bobby reminded him gently, "Give Marsha some time to gather her thoughts. She seems like an intelligent woman, she'll come back."

Dean nodded, "Yeah… okay."

"In the meantime," Bobby said, "We've just gotta be patient."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"Sam," Dean muttered, reaching out to grip his brother's chin gently in one hand, "Sammy."

The younger sibling wasn't looking at him as Dean wiped his face with a napkin.

Bobby watched Dean silently, the dinner dishes sitting empty on the table.

The older hunter could see how hard the elder Winchester was trying to remain patient and not push or stress his sibling. Bobby knew how much Dean wanted- hoped- that Sam would continue to recover from his traumatic eighteen months in Lucifer's cage but without Tori by his side, Sam had retreated back into his shell, refraining from speaking and appearing distracted as Dean tried to catch his attention.

Marsha continued to ignore Dean's calls and messages and it seemed as though the older Winchester had decided to forget about her, at least for the time being.

"We don't need her," Dean had told Bobby two days after his and Sam's venture into the park only to leave disappointed, "I don't need her. Sam'll get better without Tori."

Bobby had pursed his lips and nodded silently. He didn't doubt that Sam would recover from the torture he had suffered at Lucifer's hands but it would likely take a hell of a lot longer then if little Victoria Dodd were by his side.

SPN

Tori picked at her bowl of Kraft Dinner, a glum expression on her face. Marsha frowned at her young daughter.

"What's wrong, Sweetie? You love KD," she asked, knowing exactly what was making her daughter sad.

"Want Sammy," the little girl muttered.

Marsha sighed, about to speak when she heard a knock on the door.

Standing, she left the room and peered through the door's peephole, expecting to see Dean Winchester standing on the other side though he had stopped leaving messages on her machine a few days ago.

Instead, another familiar face greeted her.

"Oh my God," Marsha whispered and opened the door.

"Hi Marsha," Patrick Summerlee said and smiled.

SPN

Sam held tight to Dean's sleeve and refused to let go. Dean stared at his brother for a long moment, his puppy-dog eyes all but melting his heart.

Sighing, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and although Sam relaxed, he kept a death-grip on his older brother's sleeve.

Dean reached down and brushed Sam's bangs away from his brow and watched as his brother's eyes closed, a slight smile on his lips.

"I'm right here, Sammy," he murmured comfortingly to his brother, "I'm not going anywhere."

Dean would remain at his brother's side until Sam fell asleep then carefully, he would uncurl his sibling's fingers from his shirtsleeve and head downstairs.

"Aw Sammy," Dean muttered, "I wish you would tell me what was wrong."

He paused for a moment, biting his lip.

"Is it Lucifer, Sam? Is that what you're afraid of?" Dean asked, "He can't hurt you anymore, Sammy. You're up here and he's rotting in his cage."

Sam appeared to not be listening to his brother; his breathing was becoming slow and steady with sleep.

Gently, Dean pried his brother's fingers from his sleeve and laid Sam's hand down underneath the blankets before standing.

"Goodnight Sammy," Dean whispered and bent down to kiss his sibling's brow like a parent would do with their young child.

Making his way down to the kitchen, the older Winchester grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed into the living room where Bobby was sitting behind his desk.

"Hm, five minutes," the grizzled hunter commented, "That's a record."

Dean smiled, "He's falling asleep faster."

Bobby nodded, "That's good."

The younger man took a long drink of alcohol, "I just wish he'd say something, Bobby."

The grizzled hunter's expression turned sympathetic, "I know, son."

Dean sighed and finished the rest of his beer.

"Patience is a virtue," Bobby reminded him and Dean nodded, smirking humourlessly.

"Don't I know it," Dean said and stood, "I'm going to call it a night."

Bobby nodded to the younger man and returned to the book he was reading.

SPN

"I… I don't believe it," Marsha stammered, "How did you find me?"

Patrick shrugged, "A lot of money and a private detective."

Marsha nodded, not knowing what to say.

"Sammy?" Tori's voice spoke from the kitchen doorway and her mother turned around, "No Sweetheart, this is Patrick. Your Daddy."

The child looked up at man, suddenly shy, and gripped Marsha's pant leg.

"Who's Sammy?" Patrick asked and Marsha shook her head, "No one."

The man crouched down, "Hi there. Aren't you just adorable."

Tori gazed at Patrick for a long moment before turning and running back into the kitchen.

Standing up, the man looked after the child.

"Would you like to come inside?" Marsha asked, "Are you hungry, I just made dinner; it's just Kraft Dinner, nothing special but…"

Patrick gave Marsha that Prince Charming smile that had won her over all those years ago, "I'd love to."

SPN

Dean stepped into the bedroom and gazed at his sleeping sibling for a long moment. He sighed and wiped a hand across his face. Making his way across the room, Dean stopped at Sam's bed, reaching down to brush his sibling's bangs away from his face.

He wanted nothing more then for Sam to get better. He wanted the old Sam back but he was terrified that he was long gone.

The younger Winchester nuzzled his head closer to Dean's hand even though he didn't wake. Dean smiled at his brother, "Hey, Sammy. I'm right here, buddy."

I'll be here for as long as you need me, Dean thought and sat down on his own bed.

Without changing his clothes, Dean laid down on the mattress and closed his eyes.

SPN

Tori didn't like Mommy's new friend. Even though Mommy said that Patrick was her Daddy, she didn't like him. She liked Dean and she liked Sammy.

After dinner, the child went to her bedroom while her Mommy and Patrick sat at the kitchen table, talking about grown-up stuff.

Tori went to her bed and reached underneath her pillow, pulling a stack of drawings out, drawings Mommy didn't know about. The little girl looked at the pictures, all of the featuring Sammy.

She didn't know why Mommy didn't like Sammy and Dean anymore. Maybe she was scared. At first, when Sammy had told Tori about the Bad Man, she had been scared but then she realized she didn't have to be. The Bad Man had hurted Sammy but he couldn't get to her 'cause he was locked away.

Tori hugged her drawings to her chest. She missed Sammy and wanted to see him again but Mommy told her no, that she couldn't see him anymore.

The five-year old peeked out of her room. Mommy and her new friend were still talking in the kitchen.

Tori really wanted to see Sammy. Shoving her pictures back under the pillow, Tori crept from her room and towards the front door to the apartment. Glancing over her shoulder, the little girl saw that her Mommy and Patrick couldn't see her from where they were sitting. Tori smiled and stood up on the tips of her toes for the door handle, just able to reach it.

Carefully, Tori turned the handle and opened the door, just a little. If Mommy wouldn't take her to go see Sammy and Dean, then Tori would go herself.

Quietly, the five-year old slipped out the door and headed down the hallway of the apartment building towards the elevators.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

"…And she's doing so well in school already. Her teacher says-" Marsha broke off in mid-sentence, feeling unease.

Something wasn't right. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Frowning, the mother called her daughter's name, thinking she may be in the living room drawing or playing.

There was no answer.

"Is something wrong?" Patrick asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Marsha didn't answer. Instead, she stood and peered into the living room herself and saw that it was empty.

"Tori?" the mother called again, "Honey, where are you?"

Marsha's heart skipped a beat when she didn't hear a response from her young daughter. Making her way towards her child's bedroom, she stopped in the doorway and stared at the empty space.

"TORI!"

SPN

Dean blinked; confused as he stared at the dark ceiling of the bedroom he shared with Sam.

He glanced to his right and saw that his phone that was sitting on the nightstand was vibrating and the chords to 'Smoke on the Water' were playing.

Who the hell was calling him?

Grabbing his phone, Dean pressed the device to his ear without even bothering to check the caller ID.

"Dean? Oh my God! Thank you! I need your help!"

The elder Winchester sat up, instantly alert.

"What's wrong?" he asked, the fear in Marsha's voice barring any curt words to her.

"Tori's gone!" the mother cried in anguish, "I don't know where she is but she's not in the apartment!"

"Okay, okay," Dean soothed, "When did she leave?"

"I… I don't know… half an hour ago… maybe…" Marsha stammered, clearly panicking.

Dean glanced at the alarm clock, "Why was she up so late?"

"I got out of work late and was making her dinner and then Patrick came by," Marsha told him.

Dean opened his mouth to ask who Patrick was but decided that it wasn't appropriate at the moment.

Instead, he told Marsha that he would get up at that instant and head out to look for Tori.

"I… I think I know where she's going," the mother said, somewhat guiltily.

"Yeah?" Dean muttered as he held the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he pulled his boots on, glad he hadn't change his clothes before going to bed.

"I think she's trying to get to the Salvage Yard."

Dean sighed, "Shit."

Bobby's was on the opposite side of the city from Marsha's apartment and Tori would have to walk along Sioux Falls' downtown area to get there. Plus there was the highway as well.

"Call me if you pick her up," Dean told Marsha and closed his phone, running a hand through his short-cropped hair.

He glanced over at his sleeping brother and sighed, "Hey, Sammy, wanna go for a car ride?"

SPN

"I'm so stupid!" Marsha berated herself as she stood fidgeting in the elevator with Patrick.

"Don't beat yourself up," he told her, one arm around her shoulders comfortingly, "I'll bet it happens more often then you think."

"What if she's hurt?" Marsha lamented, "Oh, I'm a horrible mother!"

Patrick guided the distraught mother through the apartment lobby and towards the parking lot.

"Why don't we split up?" he suggested as Marsha began heading towards her car automatically, "We'll cover more ground that way."

The mother bit her lip. She really appreciate Patrick helping- and really, why wouldn't he? Tori was his child too- but her daughter didn't know the man all that well and Marsha worried that Tori might not go with him if he saw her.

"It'll be fine," he soothed as though reading her mine, "I promise."

"Oh… Okay," Marsha said uncertainly but her fears were eased when Patrick gave her a dazzling smile.

"Can I have your phone?" he asked and the woman stared at him for a moment, "Why?"

"I'll put my number in it so you can call you if I find Tori," Patrick explained and Marsha handed the device over, wrapping her arms around herself as she waited.

The mother took her phone numbly when Patrick handed it back to her.

"Don't worry," he told her, "We'll find her."

Marsha nodded and walked across the parking lot to her own car, glancing up to see Patrick sitting in the driver's seat of his own.

I should have just sucked it up and talked to Dean, Marsha admonished herself, I should have let him explained what happened to Sam.

The mother sighed, pulling out of the parking lot and keeping a close eye on the sidewalks, trying to spot her young daughter.

I know about demons, Marsha told herself, so why couldn't I just listen to Dean? Why was I so afraid to talk to him about what had happened to his brother?

Lips pursed with determination, the mother made a promise that once Tori was back safe and sound in her arms, she and Dean were going to have a long conversation.

SPN

Dean gritted his teeth as he drove the Impala down the dirt road that led to the salvage yard. Sam sat beside him in the front passenger's seat, eyes half-closed with fatigue.

Dean wondered if he should have left his brother with Bobby instead of dragging him along. He hadn't told Sam about Tori, not wanting his sibling to think that they were going to see the little girl. Even after this Marsha still might not be too keen on seeing the Winchesters and Dean didn't want to get Sam's hopes up that he'd get to see his friend.

Dean reached out and rubbed Sam's arm with one hand, smiling when his brother turned his head to look at him tiredly.

"How're you doing, buddy?" Dean asked, not expecting Sam to answer. And he didn't, he didn't even return Dean's grin and the older brother had a strange feeling Sam knew exactly why they were out in the car in the middle of the night.

SPN

Marsha couldn't believe she'd let Tori leave the apartment. She was never so inattentive with her daughter! Never! If anything happened to her child…

She wiped her eyes with one hand, telling herself that now was not the time to start crying and stared out her car's windows, searching for the sight of her daughter, a splash of pink from the t-shirt she was wearing or a flash or her strawberry-blonde hair maybe.

Marsha's car moved at a crawl, not wanting to accidently drive right past her daughter. At least it was later at night and there were few cars on the road, even in the town's main downtown stretch.

Releasing one hand from the steering wheel, the mother pressed the automatic window button and the side window slid down.

"Tori!" Marsha called, "Tori, where are you?"

There was no response and the woman's heart began to beat faster with anxiety.

Maybe she should call the Sheriff.

"Tori!" the mother shouted again, "Tori!"

Marsha jumped when her phone began to vibrate in her pocket and she pulled it out.

"Hello?" she answered and breathed a sigh of relief at the words Patrick spoke.

"I've got her, Marsha."

"Oh thank God," the woman exhaled, feeling all the panic she'd been feeling seconds ago melt away.

"Where are you?" She asked, glancing around to try and catch sight of her daughter and lover.

"Lumberjack Café," Patrick said, "It was still open so I took Tori inside to get her out of the cold."

"Hi Mommy!" Marsha heard her child's voice speak up over the phone.

"Can we go see Sammy now?" the four-year old asked and Marsha nodded, "Yeah, baby. Sammy and Dean are coming to see you. Okay?"

The squeal of delight from Tori nearly melted Marsha's heart.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," she told Patrick and ended the call so she could talk to Dean.

SPN

"You sure?" the hunter asked skeptically after being told that Marsha wanted him and Sam to meet her in the Lumberjack Café.

Of course he was happy Tori had been found, he couldn't imagine what would have happened had she really been lost, but he was still wary of Marsha and her unpredictable behaviour.

"Yes!" the woman insisted emphatically, "Tori really wants to see Sam and… I think it's about time you and I talked, Dean, cleared some things up… you know?"

"Uh… Yeah, sure," the older Winchester agreed, "We'll be there in a few minutes."

W

Parking the Impala, Dean got out and went around to the passenger's side, unbuckling Sam's seatbelt and grabbing his wrist.

The younger brother, clearly confused, hesitated as Dean tried to pull him through the dimly lit parking lot towards the café.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean encouraged, "We're going to see Tori."

The older brother had apparently said the magic words before Sam suddenly followed his along, almost dragging Dean towards the restaurant in his excitement to see his young friend.

Dean couldn't help but smile and shoved the door open-

And stopped dead.

Marsha and Tori were there. As well as a strange man Dean assumed was Patrick- whoever the hell he was supposed to be- but the woman and her daughter were not smiling at all. The only one who seemed the least bit pleased to see the Winchesters was Patrick, whose grin did nothing to change the fact that his eyes were black as pitch.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

The door swung shut behind Dean as he took in the sight of Marsha and her daughter standing on either side of the demon. The man had a hand on Marsha's shoulder, Dean could see the woman cringing in pain from the tight grip, and the other hand wrapped around Tori's tiny arm.

Dean's hand automatically went for Ruby's demon-killing knife he always kept in his back pocket- it was better to be safe than sorry- and the demon tsked.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Patrick chided, pulling Tori closer, causing the child to whimper with fear.

Instantly Dean held his hands out, not wanting the girl to get hurt. Beside him, Sam was shaking with fear, long fingers clutching at Dean's wrist tightly.

"I'd heard rumors that Sam Winchester had escaped the Cage but I didn't believe it until now," Patrick said, grinning like a madman.

"What the fuck do you want?" Dean snapped, eyes not leaving Tori or Marsha.

He noticed that the café was eerily quiet. The customers lay strewn across the tables and on the floor, clearly dead. Dean didn't see any waitresses or other staff members but he was almost certain they weren't still breathing either.

"What do I want?" the demon asked, "I want what everyone wants! To have a little fun!"

Shit, Dean thought, this is not good, not good at all.

He couldn't risk making a grab for Ruby's knife without putting Marsha and Tori in danger but there was no way he would just stand there and let the demon continue hurting innocent people. Maybe, if he could keep the demon talking… well, at least Marsha and Tori wouldn't get hurt.

"Sammy!" the four-year old cried out and the demon tightened its grip on her arm, causing her to let out a sob of pain.

"Leave her alone!" Dean snapped, "Let them go!"

The demon though, just continued to smile that damned smile. Releasing Tori, it raised a hand and both Winchester brothers flew backwards. Dean's back slammed into the glass door of the café, cracking it and Sam hit the wall, framed pictures of Paul Bunyan and Babe the giant blue ox, toppling to the floor.

"SAMMY!" Dean heard Tori scream and Marsha gasp.

Unable to move, Dean was helpless to fight the demon. He closed his eyes for a moment, praying that Bobby would come looking for them when they didn't return to the Salvage Yard soon.

"Let them go," he ground out, "They're not involved. They don't know anything about demons."

Patrick grinned and cupped Tori's face with one hand, "Why? She clearly likes your brother. It'd be a shame if she didn't get to say goodbye."

Dean struggled in vain against the force holding him against the door, "No! Don't!"

He tore his gaze away from Patrick and peered at his brother from the corner of his eye. Sam's chest was heaving with panic, his eyes wide with fear.

"Sammy," Dean ground out but was interrupted by Marsha when she punched Patrick in the face with her free hand. The demon, though the woman had managed to land the hit, seemed almost unaffected. It grabbed her wrist and squeezed, causing Marsha to cry out in pain.

"Stop!" Dean shouted, "Leave her alone."

The demon shoved the mother to the floor ruthlessly where Marsha's head cracked against the tiles and she lay unmoving.

"Mommy?" Tori whimpered, "Mommy!"

Patrick snickered and turned his attention back to the Winchesters, wrapping one hand across the child's chest and pulled the girl against him.

Bobby, please get over here, Dean begged silently as the demon raised its hand again.

"Sammy," Dean said, his heart picking up speed and adrenaline began to course through his veins, "Sammy!"

Dean watched, horrified, as a red stain appeared and began to spread across the front of his brother's shirt.

The younger sibling's eyes bulged and he let out a keening sound that sounding horribly like a strangled scream.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, "SAM! Stop it! Stop it now!"

The demon just laughed as the blood spread, darkening Sam's shirt nearly black.

"Sammy!" Dean heard Tori screech "Sammy!"

"You son of a bitch!" the older Winchester snarled, struggling desperately against the demon's hold, "I'm gonna kill you!"

Tori was crying and calling out Sam's name, her face bright red, her cheeks wet with tears. Dean saw twin green strings of snot hanging from her nose, her narrow child's chest heaving against the demon's confining arm.

"Let him go!" Dean cried, wishing now he'd gone with his gut instinct and grabbed Ruby's knife as soon as he'd seen the demon.

Blood was starting to patter onto the tile floor beneath Sam and his face had gone deathly pale, his lips almost blue.

"Sam," Dean called, "Sammy, stay awake. Stay with me."

He's going to die, Dean realized with a sickening jolt. He's going to bleed to death right in front of me and there's nothing I can do about it.

"Sammy," Dean said, his throat thick with tears.

The hunter caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye; Marsha had woken up and was reaching up towards the counter Patrick was leaning against. The demon hadn't noticed the mother had gotten up so Dean quickly tore his gaze away from the woman and returned it to his brother.

Sam's chin was almost resting against his chest, his eyes half-closed.

"S-Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice cracking.

"Ahhh!" Marsha cried out suddenly, a saltshaker clutched in one hand.

The mother flung her arm out, tiny salt crystals hitting Patrick full in the face. The demon cried out as the salt hit him, raising his free arm to try and shield himself.

Distracted by Marsha's unexpected attack, the demon allowed its power to loosen and both Winchesters collapsed to the floor. Sam did not move but Dean was on his feet in a heartbeat, Ruby's knife clutched in his fist.

Patrick turned his head to gaze at Dean seconds before the hunter plunged the blade of the knife deep into its neck. Tori screamed in terror as she fell to the floor, bright orange light flaring out of the demon's mouth and eyes before it slid down the counter, dead. Dean pulled the knife out of the demon and grabbed Tori, turning to Marsha who bundled the little girl into her arms.

"SAM!" Dean cried and ran to his brother's side.

Dropping to his knees, Dean put his hands on either side of his brother's face and lifted Sam's eyelids with his thumbs.

"Sam? Sammy, can you hear me?" Dean asked frantically, heart in his throat.

"Sammy?" Dean startled when he heard Tori's tiny voice and saw the girl crouched down beside his brother, her small face still red, snot caked across her mouth and chin, her eyes bright with tears.

"…Yes, the Lumberjack Café."

Dean heard Marsha talking on her cellphone and peered quickly over his shoulder to see the woman wipe blood that had trickled from a cut on her brow out of her eye.

"Please hurry," Marsha insisted and shoved her cellphone into her jacket pocket and went to Sam's side.

"Oh my God," she gasped, "Dean, he-"

The hunter all but glared at her, "Don't say it."

Dean grabbed one of his brother's hands and held on, murmuring to him, praying that the ambulance would arrive in time. Tori reached out and laid a tiny, chubby hand on Sam's other hand, her mother hovering over all of them.

W

Dean looked up tiredly when he heard Bobby stomp into the waiting room at Sioux Falls General.

"What in God's name happened?" the grizzled hunter asked, meeting Dean as the younger hunter stood.

"A fucking demon found Tori and Marsha," Dean explained, "It was holding them hostage. It attacked… it tortured Sammy."

Bobby's face paled, "Where is he?"

"Operating room," Dean answered wearily and sat back down.

"And the mother and child?" Bobby took a seat beside Dean.

"Marsha took Tori to the cafeteria to get something to eat. They won't leave until they know Sam's going to be okay."

Dean's face scrunched up in a half-smile. Bobby sighed and reached out to grip the younger man's arm reassuringly for a moment.

"He'll pull through," the veteran hunter murmured, "Always does."

Dean nodded but he couldn't get the picture of his brother lying pale and still on the floor of the café, shirt soaked through with blood, the same liquid spreading out on the floor around him.

W

Dean looked up as Marsha and Tori walked into the waiting room, the mother holding her daughter's hand tightly.

"Any word on Sam yet?" Marsha asked after greeting Bobby.

Dean shook his head, "Not yet. But no news is good news, right?"

Marsha nodded and sat down beside him, holding Tori on her lap. The four-year old looked a lot better then she had in the café. Her face had been washed- probably by her mother in the woman's restroom- and was free of tearstains and snot. The child snuggled up to her mother, thumb in her mouth, staring at the people moving through the waiting room.

Marsha had a piece of white gauze taped to her forehead to cover the gash that her fall had caused and her wrist was in a brace, it had been sprained and not broken, thankfully, by the demon.

Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He was used to waiting in hospitals for news of his injured brother but somehow this time it seemed even worse. Maybe it was because the attack had been unprovoked; maybe it was because Sam was already trying to recover from what had happened to him in the Cage.

Whatever it was, Dean was starting to become very concerned the longer he was made to wait. He just wanted to know if his brother was going to be alright. Was that too much to ask for anyone- a doctor or a nurse- to tell him if Sam was going to make it or not?

But Dean knew that wasn't how it worked and he would just have to be patient, no matter how difficult that may be.

Bobby stood and stretched, "We'll probably a while yet. Do you want a coffee or anything?"

Dean shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

The grizzled hunter turned to Marsha but she shook her head, saying that she was fine.

Bobby nodded and left the waiting room.

Dean looked to the woman, "Marsha, I'm sorry about your ah… Tori's father. What was that his name?"

The mother nodded, "Patrick… Don't be… We were only involved once… I hadn't seen him since that night and well… I don't know how long he'd been possessed. He could have been a demon since he stepped into the apartment."

Dean nodded, cringing slightly. He tried not to think about the people who were possessed, who were still in there when he and Sam needed to exorcise a demon… or when they were forced to kill them. Sam usually was the one to feel bad about that sort of thing while Dean attempted to assuage his guilty feelings by believing that the person was already dead.

"The police are probably going to want to talk to us about what happened," he told Marsha quietly and she nodded, "What should we say?"

"That we were attacked," Dean whispered conspiratorially, "That we had gone to the café to eat and a lunatic with a knife came in after us."

Marsha, her eyes wide, nodded, "You think they'll believe it?"

"People do crazy shit- sorry, Tori- stuff, all the time," Dean reminded the mother.

Marsha nodded and ran a comforting hand over her daughter's head, stroking her strawberry-blonde hair.

"Thank you," Dean said suddenly, softly and Marsha looked back up at him, "That was quick thinking with the salt."

The woman shook her head, "No, it wasn't. I just saw what that demon was doing to Sam and couldn't let it continue… he might have gone after Tori next… or you… so I did the only thing I could think of."

Dean gave Marsha a wan smile, "Well, it probably saved all of our lives anyway."

Both hunter and civilian looked up when Bobby stepped into the waiting room, coffee cups in hand.

Dean thanked Bobby for his drink as the grizzled hunter handed the brown paper cup to him and sat down in his seat again.

The young man was just about to take a sip of the beverage when a doctor appeared in the doorway, peering around the room.

"Family of Samuel Winchester?"

Standing up so quickly, Dean spilled some of his coffee, he hurried over to the female doctor, concern for his sibling making his heart pick up speed.

"Is he okay? Can we see him?" Dean asked anxiously as Bobby, Marsha and Tori came up behind him.

The female doctor, who appeared to be in her late fifties, with silvery hair and crow's feet around her brown eyes, smiled.

"Sam is going to be just fine."

Dean sagged slightly with relief, feeling a great weight lifted from his shoulders.

"What about the surgery?" he asked, "Did everything go okay?"

"Your brother lost a great deal of blood," the doctor informed him, "Which we are currently replenishing. He'll have to remain here overnight and perhaps tomorrow as well. The lacerations to his chest and abdomen were not deep and although they bled a lot, none of Sam's internal organs were damaged."

Dean nodded, grateful for that much at least. The demon had just wanted Sam to bleed to death.

"Can we see him now?" he asked again, feeling antsy.

"Of course," the doctor smiled, "Follow me."

Dean glanced at Bobby as she led them to Sam's room, unable to keep from smiling. Sam was going to be alright. The demon hadn't won. Sam was still alive.

The doctor led the small group to the end of the hallway where they entered the elevator that took them to the second floor before once again making their way down yet another long corridor, stopping at the last door on the right.

"If you have any questions or need assistance," the doctor said, "Just press the call button and a nurse will come."

Dean nodded and thanked the woman, pushing into the room first.

Sam lay in the hospital bed, the blue blankets pulled up to his chest, eyes closed as though he was sleeping.

"Sammy?" Dean said, unable to stop himself and his brother's eyes opened halfway.

The younger man was still deathly pale- his lips though had lost their troubling blue hue- but Dean guessed that would pass as he continued to receive more blood. The corners of Sam's mouth turned up slightly upon seeing Dean and the older brother took one of Sam's hands in his own and squeezed gently.

"Hey buddy," he murmured, "How're you feeling?"

There was an IV stand beside the bed with two bags attached to it, one with a clear liquid inside and a second with blood, both lines running to one of Sam's wrists. White bandages poked out from the top of the young man's hospital gown and Dean couldn't help but grimace at the sight, the cuts the doctor had spoken about sure to leave scars.

Dean looked up as Marsha and Tori stepped into the room, the little girl instantly more alert in her mother's arms.

"Sammy!" she cried and held her hands out towards the younger man.

Marsha stepped forward and sat the four-year old down on the bed.

"Careful, honey," the girl's mother said as the child got onto her hands and knees and crawled across the blankets towards Sam.

Tori snuggled against the young man's side, smiling, and closed her eyes, finally ready to sleep after her long and traumatic evening. Sam's smiled widened and he followed the child's lead, closing his own eyes.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Dean tore his gaze away from his sleeping sibling and nudged Marsha's shoulder. The woman had a smile on her face as she watched her daughter slumber, curled up against Sam. Bobby looked up at the two of them when Dean spoke quietly.

"Want to get a coffee?" the elder Winchester asked the mother and Marsha nodded.

The coffee Bobby had bought for Dean long since finished, the empty cup sitting in the trashcan beside the bed.

The younger hunter looked to his friend, "I'll stay here. You two go on ahead."

Dean nodded this thanks and he and Marsha slipped out into the hallway. They began walking towards the elevators, not talking.

Dean had an ulterior motive for asking the mother to come with him to get something to drink; he needed to talk to her and sensed that she wanted to talk to him as well.

Once they were in the elevator and on their way to the floor with the cafeteria, Marsha spoke up quietly.

"I'm glad Sam's going to be alright."

Dean nodded, "Yeah… me too."

"Dean," she began but paused as the elevator doors opened and the hunter stepped outside, following the overhead signs that directed visitors towards the cafeteria.

Marsha did not speak again until both she and Dean had bought coffee and found a place to sit in a far corner of the cafeteria, away from other people.

"Dean," the woman started again, "I wanted to apologize for freaking out and ignoring your calls. That wasn't right but… I don't know… I'm not sure how to explain it but I was scared. I mean, you told me that Sam wasn't always like this, that he was smart and then he had some accident-"

Marsha was interrupted by Dean, "Sam is smart."

The woman blushed with embarrassment and took a sip of her coffee, her attention drifting to the visitors and nurses and doctors sitting around them, eating sandwiches or soup and drinking coffee or tea.

"…And then Tori was talking about Sam saying something about this bad man who hurt him and… I didn't know what had happened because you didn't really tell me…"

"Don't make this my fault!" Dean snapped angrily, causing a couple of people sitting close by to glance at them.

Marsha shook her head, "No, I'm not… I'm an adult too and I should have asked… I shouldn't have ran away… taken Tori away and ignored you."

Dean's expression softened somewhat and he took a drink of his coffee.

"He stopped eating," he muttered, "It was like pulling teeth to try and get him to even take one bite."

"Oh, Dean," Marsha said and reached out with one hand but the hunter pulled his away.

"What did you think happened?" Dean asked suddenly, his hazel eyes boring into the woman's, "What did you think was wrong with Sam when I told you about him?"

"Dean…" Marsha said, her face going red, "I just… About the accident… and Sam going to school…"

Dean didn't let her off the hook, "I want to know. What did you think was going on?"

Marsha sucked in a deep breath, "I… I figured that when you said 'accident' you meant a car accident… maybe… and that Sam had suffered brain damage as a result of it…"

Dean sat back and let out a breath, "What about the bad man Tori told you about?"

Marsha stared down at her hands, "I don't really know… I thought maybe it… he was someone who had abused Sam sometime in his life… but when Tori drew those pictures… I didn't know what to think…"

"It's not brain damage," Dean told her, "It's Hell."

Marsha looked up at the hunter, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Dean sighed and began talking, telling the woman about the Apocalypse and Lucifer being freed from his Cage and the struggle to find a way to stop him. Dean told Marsha about the Horsemen's rings and how they could be used to open and close the door to the Devil's Cage.

"It was Sam's idea," Dean muttered, his heart aching as he remembered, so keenly, his brother telling him how they could shove Lucifer back into his Cage, "And I went along with it. I didn't see any other option. So I let Sam go."

Marsha listened silently, tears welling up in her eyes.

"And damn if it didn't work," Dean smiled, "And Lucifer was gone… and so was Sammy."

The hunter was quiet for a long time, lost in his own thoughts and Marsha refrained from speaking as well, giving Dean a moment to gather himself.

"I don't know exactly what happened to Sam down there," Dean whispered, "But it was bad. When Cas brought him back he said that Sam w-wouldn't be able to look a-after himself."

Dean sucked in a shaky breath and continued; "He wouldn't talk… couldn't zip up his own coat… tie his shoes… couldn't even eat like an adult… it was like he'd regressed or something."

"If you'd known the old Sam," Dean told Marsha, "You'd be shocked at the difference. He used to be so independent and now I was afraid to leave him alone with Bobby."

"…And then you and Tori came and Sam started getting better," Dean said, "Slowly, but I could see it."

Marsha smiled slightly.

"I just… I wanted Sam to start getting better, to start being his old self again so badly that I… I freaked out at him when I heard that he was talking to Tori… I shouldn't have done that…"

Marsha frowned, "I understand, Dean."

The hunter looked up at the woman, his eyes moist and red.

"I'm sorry I thought…" Marsha began but then stopped when Dean held a hand up, "Let's just call it a tie and leave it at that. We were both being idiots."

The woman smiled and nodded, chuckling slightly.

Dean and Marsha finished their coffees in relative companionship, still uncertain of each other but trying to work on it.

"Will Sam get better, do you think?" the woman ventured, "If it isn't actual brain damage?"

Dean shrugged, "I hope so. Sam might get better… up to a point. I don't think he'll ever be like he was before going to Hell but I can live with that as long as he does recover somewhat. And… he might not… whatever Lucifer did to him could be irreversible."

Marsha nodded sadly.

"Sam was starting to talk," she reminded Dean, "You said he couldn't before."

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

Draining the last of his coffee, the hunter stood, "Let's head back upstairs."

Side by side, Dean and Marsha left the cafeteria, heading back towards the elevators.

SPN

Bobby lowered the car magazine he was reading when a nurse stepped into the room.

The young woman looked down at Sam and Tori and smiled. She moved forward, to the IV stand and efficiently replaced the bag of vitamins and nutrients Sam was receiving.

Before leaving, she turned to Bobby, "Nurse Jenkins won't like that if she comes in here. She's very strict."

The grizzled hunter nodded his thanks, not that he cared much for the wrath of nurses, and told the young woman Tori would be awake and off the bed by then.

Returning to his magazine, Bobby hoped that Marsha and Dean were sorting things out in a civilized fashion.

SPN

Tori smiled at her friend when Sammy's eyes opened slowly and she reached out to wrap her arms around his neck in a hug.

Mommy was standing beside the bed with Dean and she was smiling. Mommy had just told her that she could see Sammy again whenever she wanted.

"Hear that, Sammy?" the child whispered, face pressed against the young man's neck, "I get to play with you all the time."

"Alright little lady," Mommy said and gripped Tori under the arms, "Let's go and get you something to eat."

"And Sammy?" Tori asked as her mother lifted her from the bed and stood her on the hospital's tile floor.

"Sam's going to have his own food," Mommy explained, "So we need to go and eat."

"And then come back?" Tori asked, looking up at her mother, to make sure she wasn't fibbing.

"Then we'll come back."

Taking her mother's hand, Tori left the hospital room, waving her free hand at Sam as they stepped out into the hallway.

SPN

Dean grimaced as he peered down at the breakfast a harried-looking young nurse had brought his brother.

He couldn't believe it was morning already. Sam's surgery had taken at least two and a half hours and they had spent the rest of the night in his hospital room, drinking outrageous amounts of coffee just to keep themselves awake as Tori and the younger Winchester slumbered the wee hours away.

"Hopefully Sam only has to stay here one more day," Bobby said, catching sight of the look Dean was giving the food.

Dean nodded, "At least I don't have to eat this crap."

Sam's breakfast consisted of two pieces of white toast, a bowl of off-yellow, rehydrated scrambled eggs, a tetra pack apple juice and a pre-packaged cup of fruit cocktail.

Dean grabbed the plastic fork provided and set it in his brother's hand. Sam looked up at Dean, hand fisted around the handle of the flimsy, white plastic utensil.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said, "I know you know how to use a fork."

Sam just blinked at him.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean pressed, "Like this."

Prying the fork from his brother's hand, Dean mimicked the action of using it to scoop up some of the scrambled eggs.

Sam just stared at Dean.

"Okay," the older brother sighed. He hadn't really wanted to have to feed his brother- he'd rather not have Sam's doctor or any of the nurses see that- but he didn't have a choice.

Dean pulled his chair up right to the side of the bed and used the fork to stab some of the scrambled eggs, telling himself that it didn't matter if anyone saw, no one was going to say anything.

A knock on the door gave Dean pause and he looked over his shoulder suspiciously, the fork halfway to Sam's mouth.

The door opened slightly and a nurse poked her head in, "Sheriff Mills is here. She has some questions about last night."

Don't let her in, Dean thought at Bobby but the veteran hunter nodded, "Let her in."

The older Winchester turned to his brother and continued what he was doing.

"Hello Dean," Jody said and Dean muttered a greeting back without turning to look at the sheriff.

"What happened at the Lumberjack Café last night?" the sheriff asked and Dean peered over his shoulder at her.

"Some nutjob attacked us," he told her, "Cut Sammy up bad. Killed some customers and the staff."

The woman sighed and took her hat off, "I know the official report, Dean, I helped write it up. I want to know what really happened."

Dean looked away, scooping up more of the gross scrambled eggs on to the fork for Sam.

"It was a demon," he muttered.

He heard the Sheriff sigh, "Of course it was."

Dean looked back at Jody and narrowed his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

The woman looked up, surprised at Dean's sudden anger, "Nothing. I saw the salt spilled all over the floor and guessed it was that… or a ghost."

Dean's attention was drawn away from the Sheriff when he felt a tug on his shirt cuff and he turned, seeing Sam pulling at his sleeve and looking at him.

"Sorry buddy," Dean muttered and fed his brother some more scrambled eggs.

"Did it get away?" Sheriff Mills asked and Dean shook his head, answering without looking at her, "That guy with his neck sliced? That was him."

There was silence for a moment and that caused Dean to look over his shoulder.

"I did what I had to do," he told Jody, "The bastard was killing Sam."

The Sheriff nodded, "I understand."

"Is that all?" Dean asked, putting the fork down and pulling the tab off the cup of fruit cocktail.

"Yes," Jody answered, "Dean?"

The hunter once again peered over his shoulder at her, "I'm glad you and Sam are alright."

"Thanks," Dean replied and returned his attention back to helping his brother with breakfast.

He heard Bobby talking to the Sheriff, telling her he'd give her a call when Sam was out of the hospital.

The door shut lightly behind Jody and Dean looked over at Bobby.

"She cares about you," the grizzled hunter said.

Dean grimaced, "Why? We barely know her."

Bobby sighed, "You and Sam saved her life. That usually endears you to people."

Dean shrugged, "I guess it could be worse."

What he was mostly happy about, what with the Sheriff's knowledge of the supernatural, was that if anything happened in the city with his and Sam's name on it, they wouldn't end up behind bars.

Dean glanced down at the cup of fruit cocktail, "How can they get away with putting one cherry in these things?"

SPN

Bobby smiled comfortingly at Dean as he and the younger man stood outside of Sam's room, the younger Winchester's doctor and a nurse inside checking on the patient.

"It'll be okay," Bobby assured the older brother and Dean shook his head, "What if she asks Sam questions? You know he won't answer. What if she thinks he's… mentally challenged…?"

Dean whispered the last two words, almost as though he didn't want to say them out loud and tried to peer through the frosted-glass window on the door and into his brother's room.

"We've been through this," Bobby reminded Dean sternly, "Even if that is what the doctor thinks, she's not going to say anything about it, she's not going to question your ability to look after Sam."

Dean sighed and nodded; if the doctor had been told about what apparently had happened in the Lumberjack Café, that the Winchesters and the Dodds had been attacked by a man in a botched robbery attempt, that had nothing to do with how well Dean could take care of his sibling.

Dean knew that… but he was just waiting for that one asshole to open their mouth and question him.

The door opened suddenly, causing Dean to jump back, looking a little sheepish.

Bobby smirked and greeted the doctor as she stepped into the hallway along with the nurse.

"How's Sam doing?"

The doctor smiled, "Very well, I don't see why he can't go home this evening. As long as the sutures stay clean and the cuts don't become infected, they should heal nicely."

Dean grinned, he was glad that Sam wouldn't have to remain here much longer. The doctor turned to him and Dean instantly tensed up.

"I'll be back around six if everything goes as planned to give you the forms so you can take your brother home."

Dean nodded as he watched the doctor and nurse walk down the hallway, onto the next patient.

Bobby glanced at the young man and opened the door. Dean was frowning slightly.

"What?" the grizzled hunter asked suspiciously.

Dean turned to him, "Do you think she knows that something's different about Sammy? The way she said that…"

Bobby sighed and shrugged, "Could be. C'mon son, Sam will be wondering where you went."

Dean stepped into the room after Bobby, smiling at the sight of his brother.

SPN

Tori clutched the teddy bear tightly in one arm as she and Mommy walked back down the hallway to Sammy's room.

After breakfast, Mommy had taken her into the hospital's small gift shop and said she could pick something out to give to Sammy to help him get better.

Tori knew exactly what would make Sammy feel better as soon as she had seen the teddy bear. It was white with grey thread used to make its eyes, nose and smiling mouth. A silvery bow had been tied around its neck and it had very soft fur. Tori loved the bear as soon as she saw it and knew that Sammy would too.

The child had shown her mother the bear and Marsha hadn't hesitated at all. She simply took the toy and gave it to the teenage girl behind the counter so that she could buy it.

"Sammy's gonna love it!" Tori piped up, smiling at the girl.

The teenager peered down across the counter and returned the girl's gesture.

"Who's Sammy?" she asked Tori's mommy, "A brother?"

Tori opened her mouth to answer but Mommy spoke before she could.

"Yes," Marsha told the girl, handing the bear back down to her daughter, "Yes, he is."

Tori had never had any brothers before. She had friends who had lots of brothers… and sisters too and although she hadn't really thought about it, Sammy was kind of like a big brother. He played with her and protected her, just like big brothers were supposed to do. Tori smiled. She liked having Sammy as a brother.

Tori gripped her Mommy's hand even tighter as they left the gift shop, skipping along the tile floor, excited to see Sammy again and give him the teddy bear.

The little girl let go of her mother's hand when they stopped in front of the room and Marsha pushed open the door.

"Sammy!" Tori cried and ran into the room, struggling to clamber onto the tall hospital bed.

"Whoa," Dean said and leaned over from where he was sitting to help push Tori up, "Slow down, Speedy."

The four-year old giggled and sat up on the bed, facing Sam. Sammy was sitting up now and he smiled when he saw Tori.

"Look what I got!" the little girl exclaimed and held out the bear with both hands.

"Did your Mom buy that for you, Tori?" Dean asked and the little girl looked over at him.

"Nuh-uh," Tori said, "It's for Sammy."

Dean looked surprised but the child wasn't paying attention to him anymore. She crawled forward and sat back against the pillow beside Sammy. She put the bear in Sammy's lap and watched as he reached out and rubbed one of the toy's soft ears between his thumb and forefinger.

Tori grinned widely and nuzzled against Sam's side, "It'll keep you safe from the Bad Man."

The little girl closed her eyes and curled tightly against Sam, careful because Mommy said it might hurt him, and drifted off as she listened to the grown ups talk.

SPN

"Marsha," Dean said, "You didn't have to do that."

The woman shook her head, a wry smile on her face, "It wasn't me. It was Tori."

Dean smiled and looked at his brother, Sam's hand slowly stroking the fake fur atop the bear's head.

"Sam's doctor said he should be alright to leave this evening," he told Marsha.

"That's great!" the woman exclaimed, "What are you going to do once he gets released?"

Dean shrugged, "Go home and relax."

Marsha looked at him with sparkling eyes, "Why don't you all come over to our place. We can order-in, watch movies, that kind of thing."

Dean's smile faded slightly, "I don't know…"

"Please," Marsha begged, "Tori would love it. And I want to make up for leaving the barbeque early."

"You don't have to-" the hunter began but Bobby interrupted.

"Shut up, Dean," Bobby snarled good-naturedly, "And tell the woman we'd love to come over."

Dean scowled at his friend but Marsha laughed.

"It's a date," she chuckled.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked Dean and the younger man nodded, "I'll be fine. Besides, I'm starting to feel cooped-up."

The grizzled hunter nodded, watching as Dean said goodbye to his brother, telling Sam he'd be back soon and left the hospital room.

Bobby turned to look at the younger Winchester. Sam was sitting up, staring at the doorway Dean had just passed through.

It was only the two of them left, Marsha insisted on taking Tori home for a little bit and the child had gone willingly enough, after giving Sam a tight hug around the neck and kissing him on the cheek.

The veteran hunter moved to Dean's vacated seat and reached out to put a hand on Sam's wrist. The young man was looking a hell of a lot better than he had earlier. His eyes were brighter and he was no longer deathly pale, his lips had lost their bluish hue and had returned to a healthy pink.

Sam tore his gaze away from the door and looked at Bobby. The young man twined his fingers in the grizzled hunter's shirtsleeve and looked askance.

"He'll be back real soon, Son," Bobby murmured, "He's just getting you some clothes."

The veteran hunter didn't know if Sam understood him but he told the younger man what Dean was doing anyway, just in case. The clothes Sam had been wearing when he and his brother arrived at the diner were ruined, stained with blood, so there was no way he could wear them out of the hospital.

Sam didn't release Bobby's sleeve and instead he leaned to the side, trying to get as close to the grizzled hunter as he could. The veteran hunter grimaced and sighed, hoping Dean would get back soon.

SPN

Dean fiddled with the radio, not really paying attention to what he was listening to. He just wanted to grab Sam some clothes and get back to the hospital. Yeah, he'd said he would get his brother's things and he had be feeling fidgety, he was regretting his decision to go himself even when Bobby had offered to go instead.

Sighing, Dean turned the radio off and focused his attention on driving. Sam would be fine for the half-hour or so it would take for him to drive across town to the salvage yard, grab him some clothes and return. Bobby was with him for Christ's sake!

Shaking his head, Dean continued driving, trying not to hit the horn when he was caught in traffic, a long line of people heading home after work, and forced himself to relax.

SPN

Bobby looked up worriedly at Sam as the young man shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed.

Sam was still sitting though he had slid down the mattress a bit and was clearly agitated. His hands were curled into fists and his face was pale with two red spots high up on his cheeks.

Bobby reached out and put a hand to Sam's forehead and was surprised to feel how warm the skin beneath his palm was.

"Balls," the veteran hunter grumbled and lifted his hand away from Sam's brow to press the red call button that would summon a nurse to the room.

SPN

"Is everything alright?"

Dean paused as he answered his cellphone, the caller ID letting him know it was Bobby who wanted to talk to him. Dean stood beside the dresser in the room he shared with Sam, one of his brother's shirts in his hand.

"Sam's spiking a fever," the grizzled hunter told him and Dean swore.

"Doc said its nothing to worry about but she'd like to keep him here just 'til the fever breaks."

Dean leaned against the piece of furniture and sighed, "Of course."

"I don't make the rules," Bobby reminded him brusquely and Dean nodded, feeling sheepish.

"I know. Sorry. Listen, I'm almost done grabbing Sam's stuff and I'll be back."

"Alright, we'll be here," the older hunter assured Dean and the younger man closed his phone, running a hand through his short-cropped hair.

I guess dinner at Marsha's is out of the question, he thought and slammed the dresser drawer shut in his frustration.

He had a strange feeling- foolish he knew- that if he had stayed with Sam instead of Bobby, his brother wouldn't have developed a fever.

Shoving the rest of Sam's clothes into a duffel, Dean opened up his cell phone again and dialed Marsha's number.

"Hey Marsha," he said when the woman answered, "You'll have to take a rain check on that dinner and movie night."

"What's wrong?" Marsha instantly asked, her tone concerned.

"Sam's got a fever," Dean told her and the woman sucked in a sharp breath, "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, stay at home, get some rest. I'll call you in the morning," the hunter told Marsha and ended the call.

"God damn it!" Dean swore out loud and left the bedroom, duffel bag hanging from one clenched fist.

Why couldn't anything happen without it getting worse before it got better?

SPN

Sam's doctor straightened up and looked at Bobby, stethoscope dangling from around her neck after checking the young man's heart.

"I wouldn't be concerned," she told the veteran hunter, "As long as his fever doesn't escalate he should be able to go home in no time."

Bobby nodded though he grimaced.

Oh, Dean's gonna love an extra-long hospital stay.

There was nothing they could do about it though. Sam's doctor felt it best if he remained in her care for at least a couple of more days, at least until the fever broke, to make sure he didn't become seriously ill.

"If Sam's fever gets worse please call a nurse on duty," the doctor told Bobby and left the room.

The veteran hunter looked at the younger man, Sam's eyes half-closed, and Bobby leaned forward.

"Get some sleep, son," he said, "Dean'll be back in no time."

Sam's eyes slipped completely closed and within seconds his breathing became slow and even.

Bobby stood and stretched, hands over his head. He hoped Dean wouldn't waste time getting back to the hospital and the older man was looking forward to taking a stroll down to the cafeteria for some food and a coffee.

SPN

Dean forced himself not to run down the hospital hallway. Sam was fine; he just had a bit of a fever, nothing to freak out about.

But Dean couldn't help worry about his brother- he always worried about his brother- and flung the door to Sam's room open a little too hard, startling Bobby who was snoozing on the visitors' chair, head tilted back and mouth open to let out snores that sounded remarkably like the Impala's engine.

The veteran hunter sat up, blinking sleeping at Dean's entrance and gazed at the younger man tiredly.

"How's Sam?" Dean asked instantly and Bobby grunted, running a hand over his beard before answering.

"The fever hasn't gotten worse," he told Dean, "So that's a plus."

The older Winchester nodded and approached the bed, reaching out to put a hand on his sibling's wrist.

Sam opened his eyes instantly and smiled at his brother.

"D'n," the younger Winchester whispered hoarsely and Dean felt his throat tighten at the sound of his brother's voice.

"I'm here, Sammy," he murmured and squeezed his brother's wrist gently.

Bobby stood up, "I need to refuel. You two will be alright on your own?"

Dean nodded without looking at the older man, dropping into the veteran hunter's vacated seat.

Sam did look a little peaky, his eyes were glassy and his cheeks were too rosy but not exactly ill.

"You could probably have gone home tonight," Dean murmured to his brother; Sam was now looking down at the blue blanket pooling around his waist, his free hand fiddling with the hem of the cloth, "What do doctors know, eh, Sammy?"

Dean noticed that the bear Tori had given Sam was stuffed against the bed's railing on the far side and he stood, grabbing the toy and turning it around to look at it for a moment. Sam lifted his gaze to follow his brother's actions and his hand left the blanket to stroke the soft fur on the toy's belly.

"Remember your old bear?" Dean asked, setting the toy in Sam's lap and sitting back down in the chair, "Dad must have bought it from the Thrift Store or something 'cuase it was already ratty when he gave it to you."

Dean smiled as he recalled a four-year old Sammy's eyes widen with joy as he tore the newspaper off the plush toy John had gotten him for his birthday. The bear, Dean guessed, used to be blue but its fur was so faded and patchy that it was more of a grey colour. It had two different buttons for eyes, as though its previous owner had lost the originals ones and replaced them with whatever they had on hand. The purple bow around the bear's neck had unraveled and the ribbon was frayed beyond repair. It really was the ugliest teddy bear Dean had ever seen but Sam loved it and the older brother was glad that John had gotten it for his sibling since money had been pretty tight at the time.

"You carried that thing around everywhere," Dean reminded Sam, "Took it to school and wouldn't go to bed until you had it with you."

Dean's smile turned to a frown. He didn't know what had happened to the bear. He had been so used to seeing it with his brother and then one day it just vanished. His sibling had cried and cried when he couldn't find it, nearly inconsolable. Dean had a feeling it had been left at some motel room or another in the wake of the hasty packing that usually followed John's hunts when Sam and Dean were still too young to join him.

"What was its name again?" Dean asked, "Mr. Pickles or something like that, right?"

Sam looked up and smiled at Dean but said not a word. The older brother leaned back and sighed.

Dean grabbed his cell phone from his pocket when it began vibrating and trilling out the chords to 'Smoke On The Water'. Checking the Caller ID he saw it was Marsha on the line so he answered it.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Are you at the hospital?" Marsha asked and Dean told her he was.

"How's Sam?"

Dean shrugged, "Doc wants him to stay a bit longer but he's not bad."

"Good," the woman answered, "Tori was so upset when she heard you had to cancel."

Dean smiled, "Tell her we'll be there as soon as Sammy gets out."

Marsha chuckled, "I did. She wanted to come back but I told her that she needed to stay home, especially if Sam has a fever."

Dean nodded, "I understand. Listen, I'll talk later, okay?"

"Alright," Marsha said, "Take care."

"You too," the hunter said and closed his phone, setting it on the dresser beside the bed.

Looking up, Dean smiled as Bobby stepped inside, coffee cup in one hand, sandwich in the other.

"You didn't get me anything?" he joked and the grizzled hunter rolled his eyes, "What do I look like? You're servant?"

Dean shook his head, smiling; Bobby knew he was joking.

"Did you get a hold of Marsha and let her know what was going on?" Bobby asked, sipping at his coffee.

Dean nodded, "She's fine."

Bobby grunted, "Didn't think she'd have a problem."

"We're going to have to make up for lost time though, aren't we, Sammy?" Dean said, looking at his brother.

Sam shifted uncomfortably on the bed, frowning.

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean murmured, standing up, "What's wrong?"

Sam didn't answer, instead, he opened his mouth; vomit spewing out onto his lap.

SPN

"C'mon Sammy," Dean held out a spoonful of chicken noodle soup to his sibling but Sam turned his head away.

"He ain't gonna eat," Bobby told Dean, tired of watching the older brother trying to force the soup into his sibling.

Dean looked back at Bobby, "He has to eat something."

The veteran hunter sighed, "Would you want to if you felt like shit?"

Dean glanced at his brother for a moment before setting the spoon back into the bowl.

As soon as Sam had puked, Dean had grabbed the call button and a nurse had come, changing both the young man's hospital clothes and the bed sheets but there was still the smell of sick in the room that couldn't be covered up with bleach.

Sam's new teddy bear had ended up getting hit with most of the mess, unfortunately, and the nurse had offered a plastic bag to keep the toy in until it could be cleaned.

Despite the younger Winchester's upset stomach, a nurse had brought in dinner, which Sam adamantly refused to eat.

"He won't starve in one night," Bobby grumbled at the worried older brother and Dean nodded reluctantly.

"D'n," Sam whimpered, staring at his brother with large green eyes.

Dean cringed and reached out, putting one hand on Sam's, "I know you're not feeling great."

Bobby felt his throat tighten as he watched the brothers interact. It was clear Sam wanted Dean to make him feel better but the older brother couldn't. They just had to wait until the fever went down.

"Aw Sammy," Dean murmured, rubbing his brother's bad and looking helplessly to Bobby.

SPN

Dean woke in the middle of the night, squinting and raising a hand to rub at his eyes.

He had pulled the chair right up to the bed and was sitting with his upper body resting against the mattress beside his brother.

Waking slowly, Dean peered at his sibling. Sam was squirming in his sleep, mouth turned down in a frown, eyebrows knitted together.

"Sam," Dean whispered and put a hand on his brother's chest, "Hey Sammy, wake up, buddy."

The younger Winchester's eyes snapped open and Dean saw them glazed in confusion for a moment before Sam turned his head to look at him.

"D'n?"

"Yeah, Sammy," the older brother smiled, "It's just me."

Sam returned the gesture and closed his eyes again. Dean sat back against the chair, raking a hand through his short hair. Bobby was sitting in the other chair provided for visitors, snoring quietly, his baseball cap over his eyes.

Before the night shift had begun, Sam's doctor had returned and checked in on him, telling Dean and Bobby happily that his fever had gone down a bit and he should be alright to go home in the morning if nothing else happened.

"D'n."

The older brother leaned forward again, peering through the dim room at his sibling.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

There was a long pause and Dean wasn't sure his brother was going to speak again when a single word was spoken; so quiet he almost didn't hear it.

"Scared."

Dean felt tears prick at his eyes and he sighed, reaching out to brush his brother's bangs away from his face.

"I'm right here, Sammy," Dean assured him, "I'm not going anywhere and I'm not going to let anything hurt you."

He could see the meager light coming through the frosted-glass window in the door from the hallway reflected in Sam's green eyes, making them seem larger than usual.

Standing up, Dean peered over his shoulder for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed, one arm wrapped around his brother's shoulder.

Sam leaned against him heavily and Dean could feel the heat pouring off of him but he didn't move. Instead, Dean inched himself closer to his brother, careful not to hurt him, until he was sitting right beside him. It was a tight fit; the hospital bed not made for two people to sit comfortably, much less two full-grown men. Sam lay with his head resting against Dean's chest, the older brother keeping one arm wrapped around his younger sibling's shoulders while his free hand carded gently through his shaggy hair.

Dean didn't know how long he had been sitting like that, with Sam curled up to him, when his brother's breathing became slow and shallow, heavy with sleep. Relieved that his sibling was resting once again, Dean closed his own eyes, certain that Sam wouldn't have any more nightmares during the night.

SPN

Tori woke reluctantly.

She could smell the French toast her Mommy had been making in the kitchen- Tori's favourite breakfast- but only snuggled deeper into her pink blankets.

"Tori!" Her mother called cheerfully from the kitchen, "Wake up, sleepy head! I have a surprise for you!"

The four-year old couldn't ignore her mother's happy voice and rolled out of bed, frowning.

Mommy had told her that movie night with Sammy and Dean and Bobby had to be cancelled because Sammy was still sick and the little girl had been very upset. She had wanted to go back to the hospital to see Sammy if he couldn't come to her home but Mommy had told her they couldn't, they would have to wait until Sammy's doctor said it was okay for him to go home.

"Your French toast's getting cold!" Mommy called and Tori scowled.

She didn't want French toast; she wanted to go to the hospital to see Sammy.

Stopping in the doorway to her bedroom, Tori's eyes widened when she heard a familiar voice talking to her Mommy.

It was Dean!

"Sammy? Sammy!"

Tori ran as fast as her little legs could take her and nearly slid across the linoleum kitchen floor, grabbing onto the corner of the doorway.

"SAMMY!" The little girl screamed gleefully.

There, sitting at the kitchen table, was Sammy. He had come to visit!

"Sammy!" Tori cried and climbed onto the empty seat beside him. She reached out and wrapped her thin arms as far around him as they would go, squeezing tightly.

"Careful, honey," Mommy told her and Tori instantly let go, afraid she'd hurt her friend.

Sammy just smiled at her. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

Tori sat back in her seat and her Mommy slid two pieces of French toast onto her plate.

"Do you want me to cut your toast for you or do you want to try?" Mommy asked and Tori said she'd like to try on her own.

Slowly, tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration, Tori used the knife and fork her mother handed to her to cut the toast into large chucks.

"Maple syrup?" Mommy asked and Tori nodded vigorously; she couldn't eat French toast without maple syrup.

Just as Tori was stuffing a big piece of the toast into her mouth, she saw Dean using a fork to feed Sammy like he was a baby.

Swallowing her mouthful, the four-year old looked at her friend and his brother, brow furrowed.

Tilting her head up, Tori peered up at the younger hunter, "Sammy? Can't you use a fork like a grown up?"

Tori wasn't even a grown up yet and she knew how to use a fork- and a knife- like a big girl.

"Tori-" her mother began but Dean held up his free hand.

The four-year old watched as Dean set the fork he was holding down on the edge of the plate. He wasn't going to use it anymore.

"Sammy," Tori said, "Look, you do this."

The child gripped her own fork with her one hand and lifted it high so the young man could see.

"Then," Tori continued, "You do this."

The girl stabbed a piece of toast with the fork on her own plate and brought it to her mouth. After chewing the morsel with relish the she looked expectantly at her friend.

Sam stared at Tori, the ghost of a smile on his face.

"Tori, I don't think-" Mommy began again but Dean interrupted, "Hold on Marsha."

Frowning, Tori reached down and grabbed Sam's left hand that had been resting on his thigh with both of hers and brought up to the table. Next, she picked up Sam's fork and pushed the handle against his fingers until he closed his fist around it.

"Then you do this," Tori said, "Like me."

Again she demonstrated spearing a piece of French toast with her own fork and bringing it to her mouth.

"You c'n do it," she encouraged as she chewed, "C'mon."

Sam didn't react.

"Sammy?" the little girl asked, wondering if her friend was okay. She knew that he was different from other grown ups but for some reason seeing Dean feed him like he was an infant troubled her.

"Here," Tori said, grabbing Sam's wrist in her hands and lifting it up, guiding it until the prongs of the fork hovered over a piece of toast.

The little girl released Sam's wrist and his arm dropped to the table, clattering the dishes.

Tori's eyes began to sting with tears. It wasn't fair! Sammy was her friend! He could do it!

"He'll get the hang of it soon, Tori," Dean said gently, taking the fork from Sam's hand and spearing a piece of French toast with it, "He could feed himself before… before the man in the diner hurt him."

The little girl nodded but didn't feel much better. She didn't really feel like eating her French Toast anymore either and poked at what was left on her plate, watching Dean and Sammy instead.

W

After breakfast they went to the park, Dean and Marsha sitting on a bench while the little girl and Sam sat beneath the shade of a large oak tree, Tori playing quietly with her friend.

Dean had brought her toy rabbit back since Sam now had his own teddy bear and the little girl now sat right beside the younger hunter, the plush toy tucked under her arm.

"More tea?" she asked Sam and poured imaginary tea into the small pink cup he was holding with her yellow plastic teapot.

"Yes."

Tori looked up and grinned widely at the sound of her friend's voice. It wasn't as raspy and whispery as when he had first talked to her about the Bad Man, but it was still quiet, a little hard to hear over the sounds of activity going on elsewhere in the park but Tori didn't care.

She threw her arms around Sammy in a tight hug, the young man not reciprocating the gesture but Tori didn't mind. Her friend could still talk!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Tori hummed softly to herself as she threaded the large, colourful beads onto a piece of black twine. Her Mommy had started buying her the items needed to make bracelets and necklaces and Tori absolutely loved making them, giving them to her mother, wearing them herself or taking them to school for her classmates.

She could hear her mother in the kitchen, talking on the phone to Dean. Mommy had to work late tonight so Tori was going to have a sleepover at Bobby's house. The little girl was so excited she could hardly wait!

The child looked up when she heard her Mommy laugh at something Dean told her and smiled.

"Alright," Marsha said, chuckling, "I'll see you tonight. Thanks again for doing this."

Tori, still holding onto the bracelet she was making, moved to the doorway of her bedroom and peered out.

"Mommy?" she called.

"Yeah, Sugar?" Marsha replied and stepped towards her daughter.

"Are you and Dean gonna get married?"

Marsha stared at her daughter, wide-eyed for a second before she started laughing.

"What would give you that idea?" she asked, crouching down in front of Tori, taking the finished bracelet from her and tying the ends in a knot.

"'Cause you're always talking to him," Tori said.

Marsha, smiling shook her head, "We're just friends."

It had been a couple of weeks had passed since Sam had been released from Sioux Falls General with a clean bill of health and since then Marsha and her daughter had been spending nearly all their free time in the company of the Winchesters and Bobby.

Tori, for one, absolutely loved seeing Sam on nearly a daily-basis and Marsha and Dean had been growing closer, slowly but steadily.

Sam was still a bit off; it was only recently that he had finally started to eat by himself again- after much cajoling and demonstrations from Tori- his fine motor skills seeming to have digressed to those of a toddler just learning to feed himself. But Dean was sure Sam would get better with practice and Tori certainly didn't mind helping her friend.

Marsha's thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her telephone. Thinking it was Dean again, she answered.

"I just spoke to-" she began but then paused when her mother's unmistakable voice on the other end.

"Marsha?" her mother asked and Marsha felt emotion well up within her.

"Hey Mom," she replied gently.

"How are you, Dear?" Marsha's mother asked and the woman felt relief wash over her.

"Fine," she answered, "Tori and I are both fine."

"I heard a rumor that you and Victoria were in that diner in town when some madman attacked?" Mrs. Dodd asked, "Is that true?"

Deciding it would be best not to lie, Marsha sighed, "Yeah, Mom. But everything's okay."

"Oh, good," Marsha's mother crowed, "If you're alright, I'd like to come over and see you tonight."

Marsha made a face. Tori was staring at her from the bedroom doorway.

"I'd love to have you over," She said, "I really would. But I'm working tonight and Tori's going to a sleepover."

There was a long pause and Marsha was certain her mother was about to tear her a new one but instead she just said, "Oh… perhaps another day."

The two women said their goodbyes and Marsha hung up the phone.

That was a bit strange, Marsha thought but then shook her head, looking to her daughter.

"Have you finished packing to go to Bobby's?"

The five-year old shook her head, "No Mommy."

"What are you waiting for, girl?" Marsha asked, smiling, and chased her daughter into her room, picking Tori up and hugging her, making the child squeal happily.

SPN

Dean's gaze flicked away from the television screen to where Sam was standing behind Bobby's desk, staring out the bay window.

"Hey Sammy," he called, "Why don't you come over here and watch some TV with me?"

Dean's brother did not react to the invitation.

Frowning, the older Winchester stood and moved to his brother's side. Laying a hand on Sam's shoulder, Dean peered at his sibling concernedly.

"Park?" Sam asked and Dean sighed.

"It's too late to go to the park," he told his younger brother, "Besides, Tori's coming here, remember? We don't need to go to the park."

Dean released his sibling's shoulder and wiped a hand across his face. Sam didn't seem to understand and that sad look on his face was killing Dean.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean murmured, taking his brother's wrist gently, "Let's go sit down. Tori will be here soon."

Sam followed Dean obediently to the couch and sat down, though he clearly wasn't paying attention to the television screen.

The older brother peered over his shoulder as Bobby stomped up the basement stairs, an old, worn sleeping bag in his arms.

Since Tori was coming over for a sleepover, Marsha was sending her daughter with her own sleeping bag, pillow and favourite stuffed animal. Sam, who normally slept in the guest bedroom with Dean could sleep in the living room with the little girl, since Tori wouldn't want to be by herself.

"Where did you dig up that old thing?" Dean asked, smirking.

Bobby shrugged, "I have a whole bunch of old boxes with stuff from my life before I became a hunter down there. I just couldn't throw most of it out, a lot of its Karen's, and was kind of hoping that it might be useful some day."

Dean smiled and turned his attention back to his brother. He reached out and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing gently but firmly. Sam shifted uncomfortably on the couch, frowning, clearly not wanting to stay seated.

"He okay, Dean?" Bobby asked, noticing Sam's fidgeting.

The older brother nodded without looking at the older hunter.

"Park," Sam said and peered over his shoulder at Bobby, "Park."

"Sam," Dean murmured, "Tori's coming here."

"He just don't understand, son," Bobby told Dean and now the older Winchester was craning his neck to look at him.

"I don't know what to say to him," Dean lamented.

Bobby frowned, lips thinning. He stepped into the living room and sat the old sleeping bag on one of the wingback chairs before making his way across the room to towards the front hall.

Dean turned to watch the veteran hunter, curiously and smiled as Bobby returned holding Dean's own leather jacket.

Reaching out, Dean took the garment and laid it over his brother's lap. Sam glanced down at the jacket, staring at it for a long moment before he lifted one hand and laid it against the soft, worn leather, stroking it like it was a cat.

Dean looked up at Bobby and let go of Sam's shoulder, the older man smiling.

SPN

"Be a good girl for Bobby and Dean," Tori's Mommy told her as they drove up the long, dirt drive towards the grizzled hunter's ramshackle house.

"Listen to them when they tell you its bedtime," Mommy continued.

Tori bounced in her car seat. She nodded, telling her Mommy that she would be good. She was so excited to be spending the night with Sammy!

Marsha parked the car and got out, coming around to the passenger's side to unbuckle Tori. Reaching out to take her daughter's hand, Marsh helped the five-year old jump down and handed Tori her backpack, her sleeping bag beneath one arm.

Tori pulled on Mommy's hand as she climbed up the creaky porch steps and knocked on the door with one tiny fist. Marsh stood beside her daughter and knocked as well, the sound much louder than her child's.

Tori grinned as the door opened wide and Bobby stood there, "Hello, there Darling."

Marsha let go of her daughter's hand and Tori peered past Bobby to see Sammy and Dean sitting on the couch. Stepping past the grizzled hunter, Tori ran inside towards her friend.

"Sammy!" Tori cried and climbed up on the couch beside him, throwing her arms around him as far as they could go. The young man did not hug Tori back but she was used to it by now, she was sure that when Sam was ready he would.

"Tori!"

The little girl looked over her shoulder at the sound of her mother's voice and smiled as Marsha waved at her.

"Remember what I said," Marsha called and Tori nodded.

As the front door closed, Tori's Mom leaving for work, her daughter sat down on the couch beside Sam, snuggling close to him.

Looking up, Tori saw Dean approach the couch, carrying her pink 'My Little Pony' backpack in one hand and her equally pink sleeping bag in the other.

Bobby gently lifted Dean's jacket from Sam's lap, the young man raising his head to follow the movement.

"You like pizza right?" Dean asked Tori and the little girl said she did. She loved pizza, even more than she loved Kraft Dinner.

"Oh…" Dean replied, his expression sad, "That's too bad 'cause we're having liver and onions for dinner."

Tori blinked at the hunter for a moment before he grinned and she laughed.

"You're funny, Dean!" the five-year old exclaimed happily and the hunter chuckled.

"Don't worry, Short Stuff," Dean said assumingly, "I wouldn't feed you liver and onions. I think the only person in the world who likes it is Bobby."

The grizzled hunter harrumphed, "It's good for you; full of iron. Grow hair on your chest."

Tori squealed with laughter, leaning back against Sam as she did so.

"Ewww!" She cried through her giggles, "I don't want a hairy chest!"

SPN

Dean smiled as Tori talked and talked, every so often pausing to take a bite of her slice of pizza or a sip of Coca-Cola. If Dean had wanted to speak, he wouldn't have been able to get a word in edge-wise. He just shook his head and listened to the little girl, glad that she felt comfortable enough to be so chatty. Dean recalled when Sam had been Tor's age and had been equally as talkative- he guessed most little kids were- but looking at his sibling now, Dean secretly hoped some of the girl's verboseness would rub off on his brother.

Sam ate his own piece of pizza slowly and methodically, and although he said not a word he still managed to get tomato sauce on his face, though he seemed not to notice. Dean grabbed his napkin and wiped the red sauce off his sibling's chin and mouth, the task second-nature.

"What's for dessert?" Tori piped up suddenly, finishing the last bit of pizza in her hand, leaving the crust because it didn't have any of the toppings on it.

Dean looked up at the girl and Bobby eyed her critically.

"Nothin' if you're gonna leave those," the veteran hunter told the child, indicating her leftovers.

Tori looked at Bobby, her lower lip starting to tremble but Dean could see that she was just fooling; she had a smile in her eyes.

"The crusts is yucky," she complained, "I don't like 'em."

Bobby, grizzled hunter, didn't back down. Dean could see the ghost of a smile on the older man's lips and knew that Bobby was aware of the little game Tori was playing.

"Know what I used to tell these two if they didn't finish something for dinner?" he asked the child and Tori shook her head.

"I'd tell them that if they didn't eat everything, I'd put whatever was left into the fridge and they'd have to have it for breakfast the next day. Even if it was brussel sprouts or lima beans."

Tori's eyes grew wide, "Really?"

Dean snorted laughter; Tori clearly believed Bobby.

"One time Sammy didn't want to eat the creamed spinach Bobby made us," Dean began, adding to the story, "So the next morning when he came downstairs, there it was, sitting in a bowl ready for him while I got Lucky Charms."

Bobby of course would never have made the boys creamed spinach nor forced them to eat it for either dinner or breakfast. If he had, Dean would have been the one to have it the next morning, not Sam, but the story was fun all the same.

Tori stared down at her pizza crusts, trying to decide if she wanted to eat them for breakfast or not, when Bobby laughed out loud, "Don't fret, Darling, we're just joking. I'd never make a kid eat something they didn't want to."

The five-year old looked up, her expression cross but she couldn't help but giggle.

SPN

Tori yawned widely; trying to keep her eyes open as she watched the movie Dean had borrowed from the video store downtown. Snuggling closer to Sammy, Tori tilted her head to look up at him. He was watching the television screen but she couldn't tell if he liked the movie or not. Dean didn't, he was sitting in the kitchen with Bobby, having a grown up drink.

"You almost ready for bed, Short Stuff?" Dean asked from where he sat and Tori shrugged before nodding her head. She had seen this movie many times- she had it at her house- so she didn't have to stay up and watch it all.

Dean stood and walked into the living room.

"I'm gonna get Sammy ready for bed upstairs and then bring him back down, okay?" Dean said, reaching out for his brother's hand.

Tori nodded in understanding. Sammy was a boy and an adult so he needed to put his bedclothes on by himself. Tori was already in her pajamas, they were blue and had Ariel and Flounder from The Little Mermaid on them. She was five so she could put them on all by herself and had done so in the small bathroom down the hall that only had a toilet and a sink in it.

Tori turned to Bobby as Dean and Sam went upstairs and the older man switched off the TV and old VCR before shoving the coffee table out of the way. The little girl grabbed her sleeping bag from where it sat beside her backpack and brought it into the living room, sitting it right where the table had been. Pushing the sleeping bag out of its rolled-up position, Tori jumped on it for a moment to flatten it before getting up and pulling her pillow and her favourite stuffed animal from her backpack.

Returning, Tori slipped into the sleeping bag happily and watched as Bobby set out one for Sammy.

"Comfy?" Bobby asked Tori as he set a pillow at the head of Sam's borrowed sleeping bag and the little girl nodded, one small hand rising to her mouth to cover a yawn.

"Bobby?" Tori asked, sitting up, "Has Sammy ever had a sleepover before?"

The grizzled hunter paused for a moment, "You know, I don't think he ever has."

Tori smiled, "This'll be his first?"

Bobby shrugged, smiling as well, "Never too old to try something new, I guess."

The little girl looked up and saw Sammy and Dean coming down the stairs. Sammy was wearing dark blue jogging pants and a big grey t-shirt. Dean, who had been smiling earlier, wasn't now and Tori mimicked the hunter's frown.

"What's the matter?" she asked, worried something might be wrong with her friend.

"Huh? Oh, nothing you have to worry about Tori," Dean muttered. He was holding Sam's wrist with one hand and the little girl watched as Dean lifted his brother's arm and patted Sammy's hand.

Tori didn't say anything else as the brothers entered the living room. Dean released his hold on Sammy and bent down to unzip the large sleeping bag, folding the top over to reveal the cloth insides. Sammy stared down at the sleeping bag for a long moment and didn't move.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured.

"Maybe we should have done a test-run first, Dean," Bobby said but Tori didn't know what a 'test-run' was. She did know that Sammy looked a little bit scared though.

Squirming out of her own sleeping bag, Tori stepped over both to reach her friend and took his hand, "C'mon, Sammy, it's okay, like Dean said. C'mon, its really fun."

Tori released the younger hunter's hand, "Watch this."

The five-year old got down on her knees and lifted up the top of her own sleeping bag, crawling inside as though it was a big blanket, her head poking out of the top.

"It's easy," she assured her friend.

Sam still remained as still as stone.

"I could get some blankets-" Bobby began but paused when the younger Winchester took a step forward and went to his knees, clearly harder than expected because Dean swore under his breath and reached out for his sibling.

Tori watched as Sammy ignored his brother and slowly, gingerly, lay down on the open sleeping bag.

"You did it!" the little girl exclaimed happily but Dean didn't look happy.

"You okay, Sammy?" he asked, clearly nervous.

Sam didn't speak for a long moment but then he offered one word, quietly, "Okay."

Tori saw Dean and Bobby look at each other before Sammy's brother stood up.

"Don't think we'll zip the sleeping bag up," she heard Dean mutter but then he noticed she was watching and smiled.

"Don't you two stay up all night talking," he warned playfully and Tori shook her head.

Dean remained where he was, hovering, like Tori's Mommy sometimes did before Bobby walked around the two sleeping bags and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Good-night Tori, Sam," Bobby said, "Sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite."

The five-year old put a hand to her mouth, giggling at the thought of bedbugs and laid down, snuggling her cheek against her pillow.

The lights were turned out, leaving only a faint green glow to illuminate the room from the old VCR player and Tori heard the two hunters head upstairs, talking quietly.

The girl remained still for a moment before she raised herself up on her elbows and peered at her friend in the gloom.

The sound of footsteps coming back down the stairs distracted the child and she looked up to see Dean coming back. He had the teddy bear Tori had given Sam clutched in his hand.

"Almost forgot," he said and passed the stuffed animal down to his brother, "There you go, buddy."

Tori watched silently as Dean paused, peering down at Sammy before turning around and walking back upstairs. After a long moment and the lights from the hallway were turned off, plunging the upper floor into darkness, Tori lay down and grabbed her own stuffed toy, listening to the sound of Sammy breathing in the sleeping bag next to hers.

Tori closed her eyes and soon fell asleep, safe and secure.

W

Tori opened her eyes, confused for a moment.

Where was she?

What was that sound?

After a moment she remembered; she was having a sleepover with Sammy, and relaxed.

But the sound didn't go away… it sounded like someone was crying.

Lifting her head, Tori listened, her own eyes stinging.

"Sammy?" she called, "Sammy?"

He didn't answer and the child listened for a moment longer before realizing that he wasn't responding because he was the one crying.

Climbing to her hands and knees, Tori crept out of her sleeping bag and around to Sam's. She couldn't see very clearly in the dark but she could see just enough in the green glow of the numbers on the VCR to see Sammy's head buried against his pillow.

"Sammy?" Tori asked and reached out, laying a hand on her friend's shoulder.

The little girl squeaked when Sammy suddenly went still beneath her hand, a long whine coming from him, muffled by the pillow.

"Sammy," Tori whispered, "It's okay… Did you… Did you have a bad dream?"

Slowly, Sam raised his head to look at the little girl.

"Did you have a dream about the bad man?" Tori asked, her voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.

Sam sucked in a shaky breath and Tori saw him nod.

Tori knew she needed to comfort her friend in some way. Carefully she crept forward until she was on top of Sam's sleeping bag, right beside him. Lying down, she curled up beside Sammy and closed her eyes. Sometimes, when she was very scared, her Mommy would curl up in her bed with her and it always made her feel better and Tori hoped it would help Sammy feel better too.

SPN

Dean couldn't sleep.

He was worried about his brother and Tori. Why, he couldn't say, he just was. He knew that Sam would never ever hurt a child so that wasn't his concern, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

Bobby had just said it was nerves, that having his brother out of sight even though he was in the same house, was making Dean anxious.

Still, the older Winchester couldn't help but pad down the stairs a little before midnight to check. At first he could only see Sam sleeping peacefully but there was no sight of Tori and his heart clenched in his chest with fear before he caught sight of her curled up next to his brother, laying on top Sam's sleeping bag.

Dean momentarily thought about picking the sleeping child up and putting her back but decided against it. He recalled his brother's nightmare back at the hospital and how he had climbed up onto the bed to sit with Sam as he slept, comforting his brother simply by letting him know he was there.

Offering the two sleeping forms a wan smile, Dean turned and headed back to bed, his anxiety assuaged somewhat but a restful night eluding him.

W

Dean yawned widely as he headed downstairs, looking forward to a large mug of coffee.

Peering over the railing as he descended the staircase, he saw that Tori and Sam were already awake, the little girl giggling furiously as she attempted to play a clapping game with his brother.

Sam held his hands out, palms facing Tori, but wasn't clapping when she was, causing the child to laugh hysterically.

Dean smiled and shook his head, stepping into the living room and greeting the five-year old and his brother.

"What do you say I make French toast for breakfast?" he asked and Tori nodded, jumping up excitedly.

"Can I help?" she asked, "And Sammy too?"

"Sure," Dean replied, and headed into the kitchen, eager to make some coffee first before anything else.

SPN

Tori stuck her tongue out in concentration as she stood on tiptoe on the chair Dean had pushed against the counter, egg in hand. The hunter had shown her how to crack the egg against the rim of the large mixing bowl- even though she had done it before with her Mommy- before allowing her to try.

Gently, the five-year old tapped the cool egg against the lip of the bowl, frowning when nothing happened.

"Try a little bit harder," Dean advised, "You're almost there."

Tori nodded and slammed the egg down onto the edge of the bowl, the shell cracking in half and spilling the sticky insides all over the bowl, both inside and out.

"Whoa!" Dean exclaimed and grabbed a dishtowel hanging from the handle on the oven.

"Sorry," Tori said meekly as Dean wiped her hands with the towel before turning to the bowl and counter.

"Don't worry about it," Dean told her, "I've seen bigger messes than this."

"Here," he said and handed her another egg, "Once more."

Tori nodded and took the egg, carefully cracked it against the edge of the bowl, holding it out so that the yolk and white slithered sluggishly into the bowl.

"There you go," Dean said and smiled, taking the shell form her, "You want to stir the batter?"

Tori nodded and Dean handed her a wooden spoon. The five-year old wrapped one arm around the bowl, bringing it away from the counter to show its contents to Sam.

"Look, Sammy," Tori said, "It gets all mixed up together to make badder."

Sammy peered down at the bowl, smiling placidly. He had forgotten all about his bad dream the night before and Tori was glad. She didn't like to see anyone sad, especially her friends.

The five-year old looked up when Bobby stepped into the kitchen.

"We're makin' French toast!" Tori exclaimed and thrust the bowl forward to show the grizzled hunter, the batter inside sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

"Well look at that," Bobby smiled, "Pretty soon you'll be cooking four-course meals for us."

Tori beamed and continued stirring the batter until it was smooth. She slid the bowl across the counter towards Dean who was ready with the bread.

The little girl jumped when there was a knock at the door but leaped from the chair and ran towards the living room.

"Mommy!"

Bobby answered the door and greeted Marsha.

"Your daughter's making French toast if you'd like to stay and-" Bobby began- Tori nodding because of course Mommy would stay for French toast- but stopped suddenly.

"Marsha?" Bobby asked and Tori looked closer at her Mommy.

Her mother's face was red and splotchy, her eyes puffy and red like she had been crying.

"I'm sorry," Tori's Mommy said, "But we have to go. My mother… she had a stroke last night and the doctors don't think she has long."

Bobby's expression turned serious.

"What's wrong with Nana?" Tori asked and tugged at her mother's skirt, "Mommy?"

"We understand," the veteran hunter said, now joined by Dean and Sam, "Take Tori to see her Grandma. We can pack up her things and take them to you later."

Marsha nodded and took Tori's hand.

"C'mon Tori honey," she murmured and began turning away.

"Mommy?" the child asked, her voice wavering.

"We have to go see Nana now," her Mommy said.

"Can Sam-" Tori began but her mother shushed her, "Not now, Tori."

The five-year old looked over her shoulder as her mother led her down the porch steps. She didn't know what was wrong with her Nana, she didn't know why they had to leave but she was scared.

Tears welled up in her eyes and began dripping down her face, her mother not noticing her daughter's distress as she focused on how own.

SPN

Dean reached out to grab Sam's wrist as his brother took a step forward to follow Tori and Marsha out to the car. Sam turned to look at him, frowning, his expression one of confusion.

"You've gotta stay here, Sammy," Dean told his brother and Sam's brow furrowed.

Bobby closed the door and looked at the two Winchesters.

"Poor woman," he muttered.

"Dean…" Sam said, trying to tug his wrist out of his brother's hold, "Dean…"

"No, Sammy," Dean replied distractedly. He had started the morning feeling pretty good and now he wasn't feeling so hot. His heart clenched in sympathy for Marsha, knowing what she must be going through and wished he had said something to her before she'd left.

"Dean," Sam spoke again, this time with more force and Dean looked up at his brother.

Sam worked his jaw for a moment before speaking once more, "Dean… where… Tori… going?"

The older brother's mouth dropped open in shock. Sam had actually spoken and… not only that had spoken a sentence, not one word!

"Sammy?" Dean breathed, feeling as though the air had been pushed from his lungs, "Sammy!"

He grabbed his sibling in a bear hug, squeezing tightly, amazed and ecstatic at his brother's pronouncement.

"Bobby! Bobby! Did you hear? Sammy asked a question! A complete question!" Dean exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes.

The veteran hunter, who had been standing in the kitchen doorway, turned around and peered curiously at the two brothers.

"Sam," Dean spoke his brother's hand and put his hands on his sibling's shoulders, "Sammy, say it again. C'mon, I know you can do it."

Sam stared at his brother with a deer-in-the-headlights expression and Dean feared that maybe he had been wrong, maybe it was a fluke and wasn't to be repeated.

"Where…Tori going?" Sam asked quietly and Dean hugged him again, grinning at Bobby from over his brother's shoulder.

Bobby smiled back but his thoughts were still clearly with Marsha and Victoria Dodd.

"I told you son," he murmured, "You just had to be patient. I told you Sam would start getting better."

Dean nodded, releasing his brother and surreptitiously wiping at his face. He knew he shouldn't hope for too much but he couldn't help but wonder if maybe… just maybe… he'd get the old Sam back one day.


	20. Chapter Twenty

The Winchester brothers stood side-by-side, silent, dressed in their fake FBI suits that Dean, for one, hadn't thought he'd ever wear again.

They stood at the back of the group of mourners come to the cemetery for the elderly Mrs. Dodd's funeral. Four days had passed since Marsha had arrived on Bobby's doorstep, distraught and worried about her mother. The doctors had been right about the old lady, she passed away peacefully later that day.

Dean hadn't seen Marsha or Tori since the sleepover, the mother concerned with making arrangements for the funeral. Dean knew how busy Marsha must be and that his presence in her life at that moment would only be an intrusion. He couldn't even really comfort the woman- he was never really good with that kind of thing unless it was his younger brother in need of the comforting. Sam, always the more sensitive one, would have been the one to insist on driving to Marsha's apartment to help anyway he could but now the only thing he seemed focused on was the fact that Tori wasn't there.

Dean hated seeing his brother distressed at his young friend's absence but he knew that Sam wouldn't understand why she wasn't there. Although he'd explained to Sam as simply as he could, where Tori was and why she couldn't see him for a little while, his brother wouldn't stop asking about her.

Dean, who had been ecstatic at the fact that his brother now was speaking in clear- albeit somewhat broken- sentences, having Sam repeat the same question over and over was wearisome.

Dean held Sam's wrist tightly as he peered at the minister from over the heads of the friends gathered to say goodbye to Marsha's mother.

After Sam had asked that same question- where Tori going- for what seemed like the hundredth time, Dean had snapped at him. He was tired from sleeping badly the night before and feeling bad for Tori and Marsha. He really hadn't meant to get angry at Sam, but having his brother follow him from room to room, asking only that one question, after Dean had explained to him why his friend had had to leave so suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore.

"God damn it, Sam!" Dean had snarled, shoving Sam's hand roughly away from his sleeve of his shirt his sibling had latched onto, "Her Grandmother's sick! Don't you get it? I've told you that a million fucking times! Just go away! Leave me alone for a minute! Please."

Dean felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes when he recalled Sam flinching away from him, withering as though he were trying to shrink into himself. Dean had slammed the bathroom door in his brother's face, ignoring the crushed expression Sam displayed and went about his business in peace.

Bobby, thankfully, hadn't been inside the house at the time and hadn't heard Dean's outburst- the hunter certain his friend would have kicked his ass if he had- and seemed to believe the older Winchester when Dean said that Sam was acting out of sorts because he was missing Tori.

Sam refused to look at Dean for the rest of the afternoon, even when he sat right across from him during lunch. Dean was certain that if Sam hadn't been able to feed himself, he would have simply refused to eat.

Dean cleared his throat a little and glanced at his sibling from the corner of his eye. Sam seemed to have forgotten all about Dean's outburst, as he stood close enough to him now that their shoulders almost touched. After that first day, Sam didn't speak again, causing Dean to think that he had made his sibling terrified to talk. He also remained distant from Dean, as though fearing that he would yell again. If Bobby noticed this sudden change in Sam's behaviour he didn't mention it to Dean. The older Winchester though, felt that Bobby had an idea what had happened while he was out of earshot. Dean felt worse and worse about what he'd done and silently begged his brother to speak, say anything, just to let him know that he hadn't traumatized him or something like that. Sam remained steadfastly silent for the next three days.

That very morning though, as Dean helped Sam get dressed in his suit, his brother had asked, tentatively, where Tori was. Relief had washed over the older Winchester as he helped Sam with his tie, patiently explaining where Tori was as he did so.

Dean glanced at his brother again as Sam shuffled his feet, dress shoes scuffing the drying grass and turned his head this way and that.

"Sammy," Dean murmured before returning his attention to the funeral.

He could see Marsha and Tori standing beside the minister, the mother's face blotchy and red, a white handkerchief raised every so often to dab at her eyes. Tori stood before her Mom, her expression sad and drawn. Both mother and daughter wore black dresses.

Dean's attention was torn away from the Dodd's as he felt Sam shiver, the motion like that of a horse trying to dislodged flies that had settled on its hide.

Sam twisted his wrist in Dean's grip and reached out his free hand towards the back of the person standing in front of him; Dean could see that it was an elderly woman with blue hair wearing a fake-black fur coat. With his own free hand, Dean grabbed Sam's other wrist and pushed it down.

"Sammy," Dean murmured, peering at his brother concernedly, "It'll be over soon."

Dean wished he'd left Sam at home with Bobby and gone by himself to the funeral. He had thought though, that seeing Tori would make his brother happy but even the sight of the little girl hadn't caused a reaction- good or bad- in Sam. Instead, his sibling had ignored everyone around them, shuffling his feet irritably and fidgeting.

Dean frowned and leaned his head down as Sam muttered something quietly.

"Shh," he muttered, using his free hand to pat his brother's still trapping in his grip.

Sam shook his head roughly as though trying to fling a nightmare away, digging the toes of his shoes into the grass at his feet.

Dean's grip on his brother's wrist tightened but he kept his gaze facing forward, glad that he and Sam were standing behind everyone.

"Want… to go," Sam said, his voice a little louder than a whisper, "Want to go… Dean… want to go."

"Shhh," Dean murmured, "We'll go soon, okay?"

Sam was quiet for a long moment before repeating the statement.

"Now… want to go…now…. Dean…. Want… to go… Now. Now."

The people immediately in front of the Winchesters looked over their shoulders at them, frowning at the brothers.

"Sam," Dean hissed, "You have to be quiet."

He should have known that he wouldn't get through to his brother. He should have realized that Sam was uncomfortable and left the gravesite as soon as he'd seen the first signs- the fidgeting and irritability.

"NOW!" Sam shouted, causing the minister to stutter to a stop in the middle of Psalm Twenty-Three.

"WANTTOGONOW!" Sam cried, increasing panic causing the sentence to come out as one long word.

Everyone was staring at the Winchesters now, looks of indignation on their faces- how dare they interrupt a funeral like that- except for two women. Marsha and Tori were peering at the Winchesters; Marsha's eyes bloodshot and glassy and Tori's lips parting to call out Sam's name.

Dean whipped his head up and locked eyes with Marsha, and, seeing her nod ever so slightly, began pulling Sam away- not that he needed her permission to leave, he just didn't want to be rude to her- but he knew she understood and would not be offended at their abrupt exit.

Sam followed Dean willingly, repeating his desire to leave the cemetery over and over, until his shoes touched the sidewalk that bordered the graveyard.

Dean turned his brother around to face him and gripping Sam tightly by his upper arms, peered into his younger sibling's face.

Sam's expression was bland; the ghost- the merest hint- of a smile touched his lips, his green eyes docile and calm. Dean frowned, moments ago Sam had been on the verge of panic and now he was as laid-back as he usually was these days.

It's the cemetery, you idiot; Dean thought. He doesn't like the cemetery.

The older Winchester peered to his left, eyeing the expanse of green lawn dotted with granite and limestone gravestones, some decorated with wreaths or bunches of flowers.

All Dean had been thinking about was Marsha and what she was going through. He hadn't even stopped to think about it when he decided that he should at least show up to the funeral for Marsha's mother, though he had never met the woman.

How could he have forgotten about his brother?

Dean cringed when he thought back to Stull Cemetery and what had happened there, the location of Sam's death and resurrection. No wonder Sam didn't like being in the graveyard.

Dean turned and looked Sam in the eye.

The funeral shouldn't be too much longer and then there was going to be a reception at Marsha's apartment afterward. Dean decided that they could be fashionably late and took Sam across the street to the coffee shop that also had the world's best cinnamon buns.

Finding himself and Sam a seat at a booth in the back, Dean shook his head at his own stupidity, looking up with a smile when a waitress approached their table.

Dean ordered a black coffee and one of the cinnamon buns, telling the waitress that Sam would also like a cinnamon bun and a glass of orange juice.

Once the waitress had left, Dean heaved a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he murmured to his brother, "I wasn't thinking about you… I didn't even think…"

Dean shook his head and peered at his sibling. He wasn't sure how much of his apology was getting through to his sibling and judging by the bland expression on Sam's face it wasn't much. Shrugging, Dean looked up and grinned charmingly at their waitress as she returned with their drinks, setting down cream and sugar for the elder Winchester's coffee as she did so.

"Thanks Sweetheart," Dean smiled.

The waitress returned the gesture and told the Winchesters their food would be out in a few minutes.

Dean ignored the additives and took a sip of his coffee black, the strong liquid comforting and familiar.

Sam's gaze was distant, one of his hands resting in his lap while the other sat on the tabletop, palm down.

Dean peered at his sibling, trying to gauge his mood. Sam didn't look upset but sometimes it was hard to tell.

"Sammy," the older Winchester called his brother's name and his sibling looked up at him.

"We'll go see Tori soon, okay?" Dean said and Sam smiled.

W

"Sammy!"

Dean grinned as Tori came running down the apartment's short entryway towards them, arms held out wide to hug.

The five-year old wrapped her thin arms around Sam's legs and held on tightly, the side of her face squished against Sam's knees.

Tori had changed out of her somber black dress and was now wearing child-sized pink jogging pants and a purple 'My Little Pony' t-shirt.

"Dean," Marsha's voice drew the hunter's attention and he saw her walk from the kitchen, still wearing her funeral garb but she managed to smile a little.

"Hey," Dean greeted, "Sorry about the funeral, Sam-"

The woman shook her head, "Don't worry about it. I think you only offended all the members of Mom's Book Club anyway."

Dean smirked and followed Marsha into the kitchen as Sam and Tori disappeared into the living room.

"Would you like anything to drink or eat?" Marsha asked and Dean saw a half-dozen different tuna casseroles squeezed onto the dinner table, cans of soda and tonic water crowded the counters.

Dean told Marsha he wouldn't say no to a Coca-Cola but he didn't really find the casseroles appetizing-looking so he decided to skip them.

Peering out of the kitchen doorway with Marsha standing right beside him, Dean saw that most of the people in attendance were old enough to be his grandparents; he guessed that was what happened when there were funerals for the elderly.

Taking a sip of his soda, Dean smiled at the sight of Tori and Sam sitting at the coffee table, the little girl colouring a picture on a plain sheet of paper while she chatted to his brother.

"Sam's started talking," Dean told Marsha, "I mean really talking, in sentences."

The redhead smiled, "That's fantastic, Dean! You must be so happy."

The hunter nodded, "Yeah. Sammy's getting better. Even after everything… he's getting better."


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

"School starts next month," Marsha said from beside Dean, watching Tori and Sam from the kitchen doorway and ignoring those gathered to mourn the loss of her mother, at least for the moment, "Tori will be in Senior Kindergarten."

Dean looked at Marsha, eyebrows knitted together.

"We might not be able to see each other as often," the woman continued, "Tori and Sam… might not see each other every day."

"Does Tori know that?" Dean asked and Marsha bit her lip.

"She knows about school. She's really excited to be going back but she doesn't know that might mean spending less time with Sam."

"What are we going to do?" Marsha asked when Dean didn't respond, only taking another drink of his Coke.

"I guess we'll just have to-" Dean began but was interrupted by an extremely short old woman wearing a feathered hat that smelled of mothballs.

"Oh Marsha! I am so sorry for your loss," the elderly lady told the mother, reaching out to take one of the redhead's hands in her own blue-veined ones, "Gertrude will be sorely missed at the library."

"Er, thank you," Marsha muttered distractedly.

Dean smirked, probably at the fact that her mother's name was 'Gertrude', and stepped into the living room and making his way towards Tori and Sam while Marsha remained preoccupied.

SPN

Dean crouched down beside Tori and glanced at the little girl's drawing. A smile crossed his lips as he saw that she was making a picture of herself and Sam.

"How you doing, Sweetheart?" he asked and Tori glanced up at him, smiling.

"Look!" Tori said and picked up her drawing, "I made it for you! Mommy put mine on the fridge already but you don't have one. I saw."

Dean took the drawing from the child and carefully folded it, slipping it into the pocket of his jacket, making a mental note to have Bobby put it on the refrigerator once they returned to the Salvage yard.

"Your Mom says you're really excited about school," Dean said, changing the subject.

Tori nodded, "Uh huh, I'm gonna be in Mrs. Applebee's class."

"I'm sure she's super," Dean said and quickly glanced at his brother. Sam didn't appear to be listening to the conversation and Dean wasn't sure how much he'd understand if he had been anyway.

"Well," Dean spoke again, "You know, once school starts it might be harder to see Sam everyday. But there's still the weekends."

Dean added the last sentence quickly as he noticed Tori's blue eyes widen.

"Really?" the child asked, her lower lip trembling, threatening to turn into full-blown crying.

"You'll still get to see Sammy," Dean continued, lifting his head to see Marsha still speaking to the woman with the feathery hat and wishing he had let the Kindergartener's mother tell her about school instead.

"Just not all the time," Dean finished lamely, feeling like the bad guy to be dropping this on Tori, especially on such a sad day already.

"No!" Tori cried and scrambled over to Sam, climbing onto his lap and staring defiantly at Dean as though she expected him to grab her and spirit her away to Mrs. Applebee's class that instant.

"Don't want to go to school! I want to stay here with Sammy!"

The child's tantrum turned a few heads, the elderly women tsking and shaking their heads.

Dean opened his mouth to speak again when Marsha swooped in and sat down on her knees beside Sam and her daughter.

"Mommy! I don't want to go to school!" Tori cried, "I want to stay with Sammy!"

The redhead reached out for her child and the little girl didn't fight as Marsha drew her into her arms.

"I'm sorry, Tori," Dean heard the mother mumble, "But you have to go to school."

"No," Tori insisted, "I won't. I…"

The five-year old paused, thinking. Dean could almost hear the gears turning beneath her strawberry-blonde hair.

"Can Sammy come to school with me?"

"Oh… no, Sweetie," Marsha responded instantly, "Sam's a grown up."

Tori's lip quivered again, this time tears began to well up in her eyes as well.

Dean looked at his brother. Sam, who had been smiling only moments ago was no longer doing so, sensing something was wrong.

"Marsha, Tori goes to Sioux Falls Elementary, right?" Dean asked quickly, an idea forming.

"Yes, why?" the mother asked, peering at the hunter over her daughter's shoulder.

"What if Sam and I walk Tori to school in the mornings?" he asked.

Marsha frowned, "I couldn't ask you to do that."

Dean continued as though she hadn't spoken, "We could drive over and then walk Tori to school. It's not that far, really, and she'd get to spend some time with Sam before class."

Marsha's brow furrowed, clearly not sure what to say.

"If that's what you want to do, Dean," she replied slowly.

Dean nodded, "That is."

A small smile spread across Marsha's face and she released her daughter, "Hear that, Tori? Dean and Sam are going to walk you to school in the mornings. How does that sound?"

Tori glanced back at Dean and his brother, thinking, and then she grinned, stepping away from her mother to hug the older Winchester tightly.

Dean sighed, happy that they'd narrowly dodged a full-on waterworks display and peered at his brother. Tori might understand what was going to happen in the span of just four weeks time but Sam surely wouldn't. Spending time everyday at the park with Tori had become a routine and Dean cringed inwardly at the thought of what happened whenever that routine was broken. At least he had time to try and get Sam used to the idea that he wouldn't be going to the park every day to play with Tori.

SPN

Bobby looked up from the thick tome he was reading as the Winchesters stepped inside.

"How'd it go?" he asked from the seat at his desk.

Dean shrugged and gave a half-smile.

"It was… interesting," he offered and led Sam into the kitchen.

Bobby followed the brothers and sat down at the table with Sam as Dean searched through the refrigerator before pulling out a chilled bottle of water.

"Interesting usually means something bad in our line of work, son," the grizzled hunter commented, "Did something happen?"

Dean didn't answer for a moment; instead he twisted the top off the bottle and handed the water to his brother.

"Sam… made a scene at the funeral."

Bobby frowned, concerned at Dean's derogatory comment.

"It wasn't his fault," the older Winchester continued quickly, "The cemetery… never mind…"

Bobby kept his gaze on Dean.

"That can't be all," he pressed.

"Tori's starting school again in a few weeks," the hunter added, "And I'm not sure how Sam's going to take it."

Bobby nodded; peering at the younger Winchester who was steadily drinking from the bottle of water Dean had given him.

"I don't know how much he understands," Dean lamented, his own gaze softening as he looked at his brother, "But you know as well as I do what he's like if he doesn't see Tori every day."

"I told Marsha that Sam and I would take Tori to school in the mornings but…" Dean's mouth twisted, "I'm not sure that was the best idea."

Bobby said nothing. He didn't really know what to say.

Dean sighed and sat down at the table, one hand pressed against his forehead.

"I just wish he was back to normal," he muttered, "I wish he understood… I just want the old Sammy back."

Bobby's mouth turned down in sympathy.

"I know you do, son," he told the older brother, "I do too, but wishing isn't going to make it so. Sam's the way he is now and we have to be glad we have him back at all."

Dean lifted his gaze to Bobby's face without moving and nodded ever so slightly.

SPN

Dean chewed on his thumbnail absentmindedly as he watched television with his brother. Sam was calm and content for the moment but the hunter knew what was likely to happen once he realized he wouldn't be able to partake in the usual routine of visiting the park with Tori everyday.

Dean knew that the best thing to do was to ease his brother into the transition, not suddenly change it up once September started, and decided that tomorrow they would go to a museum- maybe even the art museum again- instead of the park.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Dean stared out the bedroom window glumly, t-shirt momentarily forgotten in his hand.

He had woken up before his brother- as he usually did these days- and proceeded to get dressed before heading downstairs to make some coffee when he noticed how dark and dismal it was in the room, not even a ray of morning sunshine brightened the area.

Pausing in the midst of dressing, bare-chested, Dean had gone to the window and pulled back the curtains to reveal a steel-grey sky and fat raindrops pelting down beyond the glass.

Sighing, Dean pulled his clean t-shirt on; guess we're not going to the park today anyway.

He guessed it wasn't all that bad, besides, he should start getting his brother used to the idea that he wouldn't be Tori a whole lot now while the girl was still on summer vacation.

Stepping away from the window, Dean went to his brother's bed and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Hey, morning," he spoke, waking his younger sibling.

Sam blinked and tiredly sat up, rubbing at his eyes with his fists like a small child.

"…Hey… morning," he repeated Dean's greeting and the older brother gave a small smile.

Leaving his brother's side, Dean grabbed some clothes for Sam before returning to the bed.

"Arms up," Dean instructed and Sam obediently raised his arms so that his brother could pull the shirt he had been sleeping in up over his head.

The older Winchester cringed a little at the sight of the thin, pink scars that crisscrossed his brother's chest and abdomen, souvenirs from the demon attack at the Lumberjack Café. He still felt guilty his brother had been hurt, even though there was really nothing he could have done that wouldn't have resulted in Tori and Marsha being injured- or worse, killed- but Dean's throat still tightened as he recalled the hopelessness that had descended over him as he watched Sam bleeding out on the floor of the diner, unsure if he would live or not.

Sam, seeming to sense Dean's change of mood- or perhaps he noticed the pained expression on his face- reached out and touched his arm.

"Dean?" he asked, frowning, 'puppy-eyes' staring at the older Winchester.

Shaking his head, Dean smiled at Sam to let him know he was alright and handed over the t-shirt.

Sam clumsily took the garment in his hands and fiddled with it for a long moment, apparently forgetting that he was supposed to put it on.

Dean sighed and took the shirt from his brother, rolling up the body of the tee so that it would be easier to slip it over Sam's head. The younger Winchester did not complain as Dean pulled the shirt down over his head and then carefully guided his arms through the short sleeves.

Next, Dean helped Sam with his jeans. The younger Winchester stuck his legs out in front of himself and Dean slipped the pants over his feet. Gripping Sam's wrists and hauling him into a standing position and made to pull the jeans the rest of the way up when his sibling put a hand on his.

"No."

Dean met his brother's gaze, surprised.

"I… can," Sam said, "I… do it."

Dean nodded and sat down on the edge of his bed, facing his brother and watched as Sam slowly, painstakingly pulled his jeans up.

Sam released his hold on his pants and smiled at his brother, frowning as the blue jeans slithered down his legs to pool around his feet.

Dean remained where he was even though he wanted to help his brother. He wanted Sam to be able to do more for himself, as much as he could, and tried to ignore the frustrated and confused expression on his sibling's face.

Once again, Sam pulled the jeans up to his hips, this time keeping one hand on them he peered across at Dean, apparently uncertain about what he was supposed to do next.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean encouraged, "You remember how to zip up jeans. I know you can."

Sam blinked at his brother and Dean sighed, standing to help his sibling.

Well, we're getting there, Dean thought as he zipped Sam's jeans up.

Deciding that socks weren't a necessity, Dean led his brother out of the bedroom to head downstairs for breakfast.

Bobby looked up from the kitchen table, his face hidden behind a newspaper and greeted the brothers.

"What're you two up to today?" he asked before taking a sip from his cup of coffee.

Dean shrugged, "Dunno yet. Anything happening in town?"

Making sure his brother was seated at the table, Dean went to the cupboards and began gathering the ingredients for Sam's breakfast of Cap'n Crunch cereal.

"The Sioux Empire Fair is just starting up today," Bobby told him, "Though you might not want to stand around in the rain for hours."

Dean however, was intrigued. Fairs always had food and where there was food there was Dean Winchester.

"Maybe Sammy and I will go and check it out," he told Bobby casually, pouring the cereal for his brother.

The older hunter looked at him, "Really?"

Dean sloshed some milk into the bowl of Cap'n Crunch and handed it, with a spoon to his sibling.

"Yeah, why not?" he said, "We could both use some fresh air."

Bobby's gaze slid away from Dean to land on Sam who was happily munching away on his breakfast.

"You sure you won't get all snaky, what with all those people around Sam?"

Dean scowled at Bobby but in truth he hadn't really thought about that. He took a deep breath, knowing he really had to stop feeling as though everyone was out to get Sam; it wasn't doing his brother any favours and if anything, that kind of behaviour would come to bite him in the ass in the long run.

"Nah," Dean commented, turning around to pour himself a mug of coffee, "Everyone will be too busy paying attention to the livestock shows and stuff to notice Sam."

Bobby still didn't look convinced that Dean wouldn't pull a gun on the first unlucky fellow to look at Sam funny.

"You want me to come with you? I haven't been to the fair since Karen passed," Bobby said, "She loved going to it every year."

Dean shook his head and tried to ignore the slightly hurt look on the older hunter's face.

"Alright," Bobby continued brusquely, raising his newspaper to cover his face, "Just remember to dress your brother warm; don't need him catching his death of cold out there."

W

Dean drove into the make-shift parking lot slowly, cautious of excited fair-goers moving in between the cars parked in spaces marked with orange spray-paint on grass.

Sam, sitting in the passenger's seat, was staring out at the fairgrounds just on the other side of the parking lot, a smile on his face. He was dressed warmly in his jacket, a grey woolen toque and matching scarf even though Dean had thought that was a bit overkill, Bobby warned that the damp cold would get worse the longer they were outside.

After a few moments of searching, Dean found a parking spot and pulled the Impala into it, cutting the classic car's engine and unbuckled his brother's seatbelt before unbuckling his own.

Sam waited patiently as Dean walked around the front of the car and opened the door for him.

"Ready for some fun, Sammy?" the older brother asked and Sam smiled shyly.

Automatically, Dean felt a tug on the arm of his leather jacket as Sam took hold of the sleeve.

Dean started off purposefully towards the entrance of the fair, his brother following along at his heels.

Along with chilly raindrops, the air was filled with laughter, shouting, the calls of men and women enticing fairgoers to try the games set up in stalls, and the sounds of animals; lowing of cattle, clucking and squawking of chickens and the bleating of sheep. The scent of straw, cotton candy, funnel cakes and popcorn filled the air, making Dean's stomach growl eagerly.

"C'mon Sammy, let's get something to eat and then check things out," Dean told his brother as they passed into the fairgrounds, the older Winchester's keen nose leading him towards the food stalls.

W

Dean sighed happily, his stomach full of warm, freshly baked donuts. He had been drawn to the sweet treat instantly and had asked for a package of six of the donuts even though it was just he and Sam. Finding an empty picnic table with the bag of donuts gripped tightly in his hand, Dean had torn into the package, giving his brother one to start off with as he enjoyed his own pastry.

Now finished, Dean reached across the table and surreptitiously wiped crumbs off Sam's shirt with a paper napkin.

"Ready to go on some rides?" Dean asked and Sam graced him with a smile.

The older Winchester knew that they were both too old and too big for most of the rides at the fair but he had seen the giant ring of a Ferris wheel rising up amongst the stalls in the distance and thought that it would be something Sam would enjoy.

Standing up, Dean crossed to his brother's side of the table and Sam automatically reached for his sleeve.

As the Winchesters made their way past the other fairgoers with handfuls of greasy, sticky or savory foods, Dean kept his eyes glued to the silhouette of the massive wheel in the distance.

A sharp tug on his sleeve made him look back at Sam to see what had happened. They were passing one of the animal exhibits, a large white tent from which the sounds of clucking and scratching were coming from.

Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Really? Chickens? That's what you want to see, Sammy?"

Sam, his face turned in the direction of the tent, tugged on Dean's sleeve again and the older brother sighed.

"Fine," he muttered half-heartedly, "We'll look at the chickens."

To Dean's surprise, the fowl inside the cages were more than just the white-featured birds he'd been expecting. There were maybe three dozen different breeds that Dean had had no idea even existed. There was a handsome rooster with glossy reddish-orange feathers, a dark green tail, crimson red comb and beady golden eyes. Another chicken, a hen, was completely black, even her scaly legs and eyes were as dark as coal.

Dean's favourite had to be the one with white, fluffy feathers that looked more like fur than anything. Its puffy, snow-white feathers were so thick that it looked like a cotton ball with a beak and legs.

Some of the cages had ribbons for first, second, or third place pinned on them, reminding Dean that this was also an agricultural fair as well as just a good time for tourists and townies alike.

Dean's brother stopped in front of each cage and peered at its occupant, apparently fascinated. Dean sighed but waited patiently as Sam made his slow way down the row of caged chickens, heading closer and closer to the exit.

"Okay, Sammy," Dean said once they'd made their way through the tent, "Can we go on a ride now?"

The younger Winchester followed along obediently as Dean made his way towards the Ferris wheel.

The brothers moved into place at the end of the line of people- families and couples- waiting for a chance to ride the wheel.

Dean automatically scanned the faces of strangers surrounding him and his brother, a habit partially born of his hunter's training and from his need to keep Sam safe.

No one appeared suspicious or was even paying attention to the Winchesters.

Dean relaxed. A little.

The line slowly inched forward- too slowly in Dean's opinion- but finally it was his and Sam's turn for the ride.

The bored-looking teen running the controls waved the brothers forward and stared at them for no longer than a second as they took their spots on the wide, narrow seat, Dean pulling down the safety bar.

Dean found himself grinning like an idiot. He hadn't been on a Ferris wheel since he was a kid and was actually giddy with excitement and nostalgia. Even though he absolutely hated flying he had no problem with rides that lifted their passengers into the air, a simple steel bar or nylon strap the only thing between a fun time and serious injury or death.

The Ferris wheel jerked to a start and Dean let out a 'whoop' as he and Sam were lifted into the sky.

In his own happiness Dean momentarily forgot his brother- that was until Sam slid across the painted metal seat and crashed into him. Hard.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed with no heat in his voice even though the breath had been knocked out of him by his brother's weight, "Sammy, what're you-"

The look on his sibling's face told Dean everything. He was terrified.

All the blood had drained from Sam's face, leaving it pale and waxy-looking; his green eyes were dark and as wide as saucers.

The younger Winchester grabbed at his brother's jacket frantically, hitting Dean in his chest with one flailing elbow as he scrambled to find purchase against the smooth leather.

Dean reached out automatically and wrapped his arms around his brother, drawing him close, trying to comfort him as best he could.

"We can't get off this thing right now," he murmured into Sam's ear as his brother clutched desperately at his coat, "It'll be over real soon, Sammy. I promise."

The older Winchester had no idea what had happened to cause such a reaction in his sibling- ever since Sam was a baby he had virtually no fear of heights, squealing in delight when their father would toss him into the air or hold him overhead- but thought that perhaps it was similar to the scene in the diner, with the red lampshades.

"I've got ya, Sammy," Dean continued to murmur as the Ferris wheel slowly reached its apex, "I won't let anything happen to you."

The younger man buried his face against Dean's chest, whimpering.

The ride paused for a minute or so at the top, affording the elder Winchester a bird's-eye-view of downtown Sioux Falls and the fairground.

"Hey Sammy," Dean joked weakly, "I can see Bobby's place from up here."

Sam's face remained pressed against his chest, fingers white as they held fast to his jacket, his tall frame shaking slightly.

"Want… down," Sam gasped as though he couldn't get enough air into his lungs, "Down… want down… Dean… down… Please…"

Okay, Dean realized that they wouldn't be making any more circuits on the Ferris wheel and once the ride began its decent, he yelled at the operator to get his attention.

"We need off!" he shouted, "My brother's having a panic attack!"

The teen raised an eyebrow but nodded and as the car Sam and Dean were riding in approached the ground, slowed the wheel to a full stop for them, to a chorus of groans and protests of the other passengers.

Dean, one arm around his sibling's shoulders, the other free, lifted the safety bar and pulled Sam up into a standing position.

"C'mon Sammy," he muttered and guided his brother down the steps towards the exit.

Making his way through the crowds of people- many of whom were staring openly at the Winchesters because Sam refused to let go of Dean- the older brother found an empty picnic table where they could sit and calm down.

Dean sat down and forced his brother to sit beside him. He noticed he was getting a few looks from the people at the surrounding tables but the hunter could have cared less at that moment. His brother needed him and everyone else be damned.

Carefully Dean pried Sam's fingers away from his jacket and held his brother's hands in both of his, murmuring to him.

"Hey, Sammy, its okay," he reassured quietly, "We're off the ride. We won't go on it again. You're okay."

Sam wasn't looking at him, his gaze was distant, far away and so not what Dean needed right now.

The older brother squeezed his sibling's hands hard, and Sam turned to stare at him, 'puppy-eyes' in full-force.

Releasing Sam's hands, Dean drew him into a hug.

Without saying anything more, the elder Winchester remained with his arms around his sibling's broad back for a long moment, until he felt Sam stop shaking and melt into the embrace.

Feeling as though enough time had passed, Dean held Sam out at arm's length. His brother's face was still a bit pale but his eyes were no longer fearful and he wasn't trembling anymore.

The older brother gave his sibling an encouraging smile.

"Want to go play some games, Sammy?"

W

Dean couldn't help but grin as his brother munched away at a large pink ball of cotton candy. He himself had won a large, stuffed red bulldog at a shooting game and he thought he'd give the toy to Bobby when they returned home.

Sam seemed to have completely forgotten about the previous incident with the Ferris wheel and Dean counted that as a blessing.

The brothers stopped at one game where the key to winning was to throw a Ping-Pong ball into a cup of water where a goldfish swam. Sam watched a teenaged couple as the boy tossed one of the small, white balls into a cup and his girlfriend squealed with delight as she was rewarded with a bright orange goldfish in a little baggie.

"You want a fish, Sam?" Dean asked; that had to be one of the easiest games the fair offered, the 'Everyone's A Winner!' kind and his brother answered with a shy smile.

Handing the plush toy to his brother to hold, Dean paid the man running the game five bucks- even thought he wouldn't need five balls- and took careful aim at one of the cups with a neat-looking goldfish that was white with yellow speckles.

As predicted, Dean landed the Ping-Pong ball in the cup he wanted on the first try.

Grinning broadly, he accepted the bagged fish and proudly showed it to his brother.

"What do you think, Sammy?"

His sibling, though, wasn't even looking at the prize; instead he was watching another couple trying for their own goldfish. This one consisted of what looked like a boy of about ten and his little sister of maybe seven or eight. Dean turned his attention to what was so distracting his brother and watched as well.

The boy had a handful of Ping-Pong balls and was trying without luck, to get them to land in any of the cups.

Once he had used up all his ammunition, he patted his pockets and stared sadly down at his sister, "Sorry, Kate, I don't have anymore money."

The girl, clearly upset, was trying not to cry. She nodded and took her brother's hand as they began to walk away from the game.

Sam frowned for a long moment, eyes following the duo as they moved further and further away.

"You wanna give her the fish?" Dean asked and Sam gave a small smile.

Quickly, Dean jogged after the kids, catching up with them easily.

"Hey, my brother and I saw that you didn't get a fish and we did," Dean began; the boy watching him with a suspicious look but his sister only had eyes for the fish in its plastic bag.

"Anyway, we can always get another one," Dean concluded and handed the fish over to Sam as he approached.

For a moment the girl seemed taken aback by Sam, probably because he towered over her, before she took a step or two towards him and reached up to take the bag from him.

"Thank you," she said politely and smiled wide.

"Yeah," her brother muttered, "Thanks."

With that the two kids were off, heading towards the entrance to the fair.

Dean grinned at his brother, "You've always had a big heart, Sammy."

W

On the way back to Bobby's house Dean and Sam stopped at a pet store to get a bowl for the newest member of the family. Dean just had to go back and get his brother another fish and their newest friend was orange, with black on its fins, mouth and around its eyes. Dean had to admit it was pretty awesome, for a fish.

Dean helped Sam pick out a bowl, pebbles and food for the fish and he gladly paid for it, glad that it would make his brother happy.

As they drove the rest of the way to the Salvage Yard, Sam sat with the bag containing the fish nestled carefully on his lap.

Dean was surprised that throughout their entire outing, Sam hadn't mentioned going to the park or seeing Tori at all. He knew Sam hadn't forgotten about the little girl and he found himself wondering when his brother would ask to see the child.

Pulling into the gravel driveway of the yard, Dean cut the engine and exited the Impala, pausing to grab the stuffed bulldog and bag of goldfish accessories before making his way around the vehicle to undo his brother's seatbelt.

"What've you got there?" Bobby asked as he stepped out onto the porch to greet them.

"A new guard dog for the yard," Dean held up the toy and smirked.

Bobby just shook his head, a smile on his lips.

"You get a pet?" he asked and Dean nodded, "Won Sammy a fish at the fair."

Once inside, Dean prepared the fish's new home. Running water into the bowl to sit for a few hours before the animal could move in he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator for himself and a Coca-Cola for his brother.

Bobby joined them in the kitchen and grabbed himself a cold one.

"He have fun?" the grizzled hunter asked Dean and he nodded.

"But he had a bit of a panic attack," the elder Winchester admitted sheepishly.

"What happened?" Bobby asked suspiciously.

Sam, sensing the tone in the room, looked up from his drink and peered concernedly at his brother.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean assured him.

Turning back to Bobby, Dean explained the incident on the Ferris wheel.

"Sam's never been scared of heights before," he said, "I guess maybe it was like what happened in the diner. You know, right place and right time."

Bobby nodded pensively, "Looks like he's over it."

Dean smiled and agreed.

"Are you thinking of going back to the fair tomorrow?" Bobby asked and Dean said that he hadn't thought about it but that they could, they hadn't seen all of the animal exhibits yet and he knew Sam had loved the chickens.

"Mind if I come along?" the veteran hunter asked in an offhand manner but Dean could tell by the tone of his voice that he really wanted him to say yes.

"Sure, we'd love the company, wouldn't we, Sammy?" Dean said and his brother nodded his agreement.

Bobby looked very pleased.

"I hope you're hungry," he told the brothers, "I made my famous Five-Alarm Chili for dinner."


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

After the perfect chili dinner for such a cold, drizzly day, Dean set Sam's new goldfish up in his bowl.

The orange and black fish made a quick circuit of the bowl before nestling into the fake grass at the bottom of the habitat and stared at the hunters with lambent eyes.

"What're you gonna name him?" Dean asked Sam as his brother peered at the fish.

The younger Winchester didn't answer so Dean turned his attention to Bobby.

"It's like he's mesmerized by that thing," Dean commented to Bobby, who shrugged.

"It's better than cartoons," the grizzled hunter said wryly and Dean scowled.

Dean turned his attention away from Bobby and back to his brother, "C'mon, Sammy, let's watch a movie."

Sam peered over his shoulder at his brother and didn't resist when Dean took hold of his elbow and led him into the living room.

Sitting Sam down on the couch beside him, Dean picked up the remote and turned the television on, flicking through the channels until he found something to watch.

Settling in once he found a 'Death Wish'marathon, Dean noticed that Bobby had followed them and was sitting in one of the wingback chairs to enjoy the movie as well.

W

A half hour into the movie, Sam stood up from the couch.

Dean peered up at his brother, instantly concerned.

"What's up, Sammy?"

The younger Winchester didn't answer and instead turned towards the kitchen.

"Sammy?" Dean called again but didn't yet move from his spot on the couch. Instead, he watched as his sibling walked into the kitchen and stood in front of the counter where the goldfish was sitting in its bowl.

Dean's gaze met Bobby's and the younger man stood.

Making his way into the kitchen, the older Winchester saw that his brother was once again just staring at the fish.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, laying a hand on his sibling's shoulder, "Why don't we bring your friend into the living room?"

Reaching out, Dean lifted the fishbowl and carried the pet out into the den, setting the bowl on the coffee table.

"Do you know what you're going to name him?" he asked Sam, who had followed him in from the kitchen.

His brother didn't reply.

"Fins?" Bobby suggested.

Dean smiled at the name but Sam didn't react.

"Charlie," Dean suggested, "Like Charles Bronson."

"Goldie Lox?"

"Pumpkin?"

"Spot?"

"Nemo?"

Again, the name choices elicited no response.

"Fred?" the older brother offered.

Sam smiled.

"Fred it is then," Dean said with finality and sat down on the couch, contended.

After a moment, Sam sank to the cushions, eyes on the goldfish.

Bobby chuckled at the Winchesters and returned his attention back to the television screen.

W

Dean smirked as Sam carefully carried Fred's fishbowl up the staircase. He had told to his brother that the goldfish would be fine where it was but Sam hadn't listened, reaching out and hugging the round bowl to his chest defiantly. Shrugging, Dean had just reminded his brother to be careful so as not to drop the bowl as he mounted the stairs.

Before getting ready to sleep, Sam sat the fishbowl down on the already cluttered nightstand that stood between the beds.

"Really Sammy," Dean asked with a raised brow, "You really want that fish to stare at you all night?"

The younger man frowned as though he was trying to figure out what Dean was saying before turning away and heading towards the bathroom.

"You're one lucky guppy, you know that?" Dean muttered to Fred before he followed Sam down the hallway to brush his teeth.

SPN

Bobby tried to hide how happy he was to be going to the fair with the Winchesters. Holding his newspaper in front of his face, he smiled as he listened to Dean making Sam breakfast.

"You want anything, Bobby?" the veteran hunter heard Dean ask, the smell of scrambled eggs and bacon heavy in the warm morning air in the kitchen.

Lowering the paper, Bobby shrugged, "Sure, since you're making."

The younger hunter nodded and turned back to the frying pans sitting on the ancient stovetop.

Bobby turned his attention to Sam, sitting across from him, goldfish bowl on the table before him.

"How're you doing, son?" the hunter asked the younger man and Sam smiled, saying nothing.

Bobby lifted his gaze to Dean, "Cat got his tongue?"

The older Winchester shrugged, "He has his chatty moments."

Bobby nodded and took a deep drink from his cup of coffee.

At least the boy wasn't pining over his little friend. Bobby guessed that keeping Sam occupied helped.

Dean approached the table, setting out dishes and utensils for three.

"Need a hand?" Bobby asked the eldest Winchester and Dean shook his head, "I can handle it."

Returning to the table, Dean scooped scrambled eggs onto each of the plates, returned the pan to the stove and distributed the bacon.

Without waiting for the younger man to sit down, Bobby picked up his fork and began eating.

"Mmm," the veteran hunter muttered through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, "You sure know how to cook an egg."

Dean, taking a seat beside Sam, smiled, "Only because I learned from the best."

Bobby's lips curled up and he took a sip of his coffee.

The elder Winchester dug into his breakfast, eating quickly. Sam sat still for a long moment, staring at his plate of eggs and bacon.

Dean, ever vigilant to his brother, stopped wolfing down his own food and turned to Sam.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" the older sibling asked, frowning.

Sam didn't answer but picked up his fork and began eating with measured slowness.

Dean looked across the table at Bobby and the veteran hunter shrugged. After a moment, the younger hunter returned to his breakfast.

Bobby sighed and took a drink of his coffee.

Sam was clearly a heck of a lot better than he had been when Dean had first brought him back Sioux Falls but sometimes the boy was still a mystery.

SPN

Dean sighed as he sat down behind the Impala's steering wheel. It had taken more than a quarter of an hour to get Sam ready and out of the house.

After he and Bobby had finished getting ready to head out to the fair, Dean had turned his attention to Sam, prepared to help him with his shoes and jacket.

The younger hunter, however, had wanted to dress himself and though Dean had been ecstatic that Sam was starting to become more and more independent, it was clear that his sibling wasn't quite ready yet.

Sam struggled with his shoelaces, knotting them badly before Dean was forced to take them away and fix them before typing them for his brother instead. After the shoes, came Sam's jacket. Recalling his sibling's frustration with the zipper on his jeans the day before, Dean had tried to help his brother, only to have Sam step away from him, eyeing him.

"I… do it," Sam insisted, "I… can do it."

So Dean had watched as his brother fought in vain to zip his jacket up before he once again stepped in. Sam didn't look happy at all that Dean had to assist and trudged after him towards the Impala, Bobby bringing up the rear. He hadn't said a word in all the time Dean had been helping Sam get ready.

Now that he was settled in the Impala, the eldest Winchester relaxed and started the car, smiling as AC/DC's 'Fire Your Guns' blasted out of the stereo.

Sam was sitting in the passenger's seat, still looking crestfallen but Dean was certain that he'd cheer up once they were back at the fairgrounds.

Bobby, seated in the back, leaned forward, "Turn up that music, son."

Dean smiled and obliged the older hunter, suddenly feeling insanely happy. He was certain that they were going to have an amazing day at the fair.

W

Dean gripped his brother's wrist tightly as Bobby followed them through the entrance to the fair. The weather was better than it had been yesterday- a butter-yellow sun was shining through the clouds, rapidly growing stronger and promising a beautiful day- so the crowd of people heading to the attractions or waiting in line for snacks was bigger than previously.

"What do you want to do first?" Dean asked Bobby over the din of the crowd.

"Why don't we see some of the animals?" the grizzled hunter suggested, "You said Sam liked them yesterday."

The older Winchester nodded and began heading towards the tents where the small animals were held.

W

Pushing through the crowd of people, narrowly missing getting whacked in the face by someone's cotton candy, Dean led Sam and Bobby towards the familiar tent where the chickens were.

Already he could hear the clucking and cawing of the fowl and he shouldered through a group of teenage boys before entering the humid, smelly tent.

Finally releasing Sam's wrist, Dean took his attention off his sibling as he stared at the chickens.

The elder Winchester walked though the small tent, peering into the cages at the chickens and roosters with unusual feature and pigment colouring. Bobby moved beside him, commenting that they had more animals for show than the last time he had attended the fair.

At the far end of the tent, Dean realized that Sam was not with him and Bobby. Turning around, the hunter spied his sibling at the opposite side of the tent, having not moved since entering.

"Sammy?" Dean called across the small tent, frowning.

More people were now stepping into the tent, jostling Sam as he stood ramrod straight in the middle of the walkway, eyes fixed on the caged birds.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean called again, hoping to snap his brother out of it and get him to realize he'd been left behind.

Suddenly, Sam moved, though not in the direction of his brother and friend. He took two purposeful steps toward the cage directly in front of him, holding a small hen with a bright red comb, golden eyes and brown and white speckled feathers.

Dean watched as Sam raised his hands and laid them on the cage- startling the bird inside- and began to shake it.

"Hey! Sam, no!" the elder hunter exclaimed and began to make his way towards his brother, "Sam, stop!"

The younger man wasn't listening. One hand found the lock that held the cage's door shut- a simple one that could be opened by a child- and disengaged it.

Frightened, the chicken shot out of the cage in a flurry of feathers and squawked angrily as it landed on the hard-packed dirt floor, startling other visitors in the tent.

"SAM!" Dean shouted and reached his brother just as his brother was reaching out towards the next cage.

The hunter grabbed Sam's hand and pulled it down roughly.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snapped, ignoring the questions thrown out at him by other people in the tent.

"What's he doing?"

"Is he stupid or something?"

"What were you thinking of doing to that chicken?"

Sam's gaze met Dean's and the older brother saw his sibling's green eyes were round and wet, threatening tears.

"God damn it," Dean muttered and tugged his brother out of the tent, keeping a strong hold on Sam's wrist.

"Dean…" Sam whimpered but the hunter continued to ignore him as he stormed away from the tent, knowing that Bobby would catch up with them.

Once they were far enough away, Dean reached up and gripped both of Sam's shoulders, forcing his brother to face him.

"What the hell was that, Sam? What were you doing?"

The younger man whined soundlessly, raising his own hands to try and pull Dean's away from his shoulders.

"Look at me," the older brother demanded, "Sam. Look at me."

Sam glanced at him cautiously from the corner of his eye.

"What were you thinking?" Dean asked, forcing himself to calm down, "What's wrong?"

"Dean!" he heard Bobby calling his name but ignored him.

Sighing, Dean lifted one hand from his brother's shoulder to rake his fingers through his short hair.

"DE-" Bobby's shout was cut off, followed by a dull thud and the sound of screaming and pounding footsteps.

The older Winchester looked up to see two people who looked extremely out of place at a fair, striding down the dirt path that wound through the park. Right towards him and Sam.

Before Dean could react, one of the strangers- a woman wearing a fog-grey suit and her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head- lifted a hand and the hunter found himself crashing bodily into the side of a truck selling funnel cakes.

Dazed and sore, Dean landed on his belly in the dirt, unable to pick himself up.

SPN

Sam started to shake.

He remained as though rooted to the spot as an invisible force picked up Dean and slammed him into the side of a food truck.

"Dean!" Sam called but was too frightened to move.

His brother didn't move and that scared him.

Sam barely noticed that he was more or less alone. Bobby and Dean had been knocked out and the other fairgoers had fled from the two imposing figures that were still making their way right towards him.

"Sam Winchester!" the woman called out in a stern voice and the young man's eyes slid away from his brother's prone form to her face.

Sam whimpered and took one step backwards, his foot settling awkwardly in a rut made by a vehicle that had driven down the path and rolled his ankle, falling onto his back.

Sam cried out in pain, the tears that had been threatening earlier finally leaking down his face and raised his hands in a defensive position.

The angels stopped a mere feet away from the fallen hunter and the male raised a hand, palm facing outwards.

"Touch him and I will kill you, Zadkiel," a gravelly voice intoned, but it hadn't come from either of the two angels staring at Sam.

It had come from the angel standing behind them.

"Castiel-" the female angel began but was interrupted.

"Eurdora, you know I do not make empty threats."

"Why did you resurrect him?" Zadkiel asked, his hand still poised to land a killing blow.

"Dean asked me to," the blue-eyed angel answered truthfully.

"But he destroyed our chance for Paradise and threw Michael into the Pit!" Eudora exclaimed, "The Cage was his punishment for his crimes!"

Still calm, Cas answered, "He spent a hundred and eighty years in the Cage, tortured, do you belief that he deserves an eternity of torment for doing only what comes naturally to his species?"

The other two angels narrowed their eyes in confusion.

"I do not understand," Zadkiel said and lowered his hand.

"Our Father gave humans free will," Castiel explained, "It was of his own free will that Sam fought against Lucifer and plunged them both into the Cage in order to save every man, woman and child on Earth."

"If our Father did not want that to come to pass," he continued, "He would not have given humans free will."

Zadkiel opened his mouth, possible to argue against Castiel's logic but he was interrupted, "Do not make me have to stop you, brother."

Deciding not to call the black-haired angel's bluff, Zadkiel stepped back from Sam Winchester.

Eudora, however, still did not appear convinced that the human had suffered enough and lunged towards the vulnerable young man.

Before she could even touch him with a finger, Castiel moved with lightning-quick reflexes and drove his seraph blade into Eudora's back, causing her to scream and glow with internal fire before bursting into ashes, a silhouette of her wings singed into the dirt where she had stood.

Without even panting from exertion, Castiel returned his blade to his trench coat and raised an eyebrow at Zadkiel. The other angel didn't need to be told twice and vanished with a flurry of wings.

Now that the immediate danger was gone, Castiel stepped towards the fallen young hunter and reached down, laying a hand against Sam's brow in order to heal his injuries.

"Sam," the angel said quietly as the human sat up awkwardly; Castiel's expression softening.

"Dean?" the young man asked and craned his neck to peer over his shoulder at his brother.

The angel noticed that the human was still shaking and he wished he could comfort his friend. Instead, Cas decided to do the next best thing: leaving Sam's side for the moment, he made his way across the deserted fairground to where Dean lay barely conscious in the grass and placed a hand to the crown of his head, healing his wounds.

"SAMMY!" the hunter cried out and shot up as though he'd been electrocuted.

"Cas? Cas! Where's Sam?" Dean asked, hazel eyes full of fright before he caught sight of his sibling sitting in the middle of the dirt walkway, shaken but uninjured.

"Sammy," the older Winchester darted across the grass and landed on his knees, pulling his brother into a bone-crushing hug.

The angel followed Dean at a walk, allowing the hunter a moment with his sibling.

"I also healed the scars from the demon attack," Cas told Dean, "As well as his sprained ankle."

The older Winchester's eyes went wide and he grabbed the bottom of his brother's shirt and pulled it up to reveal that the crisscrossed scars that had covered his brother's chest and abdomen- souvenirs from the demon attack in the Lumberjack Café- had indeed vanished.

"How did you-" Dean began to ask the angel how he had known about the demon who had almost killed his brother but then stopped. Of course, Cas knew about the demon.

"Where's Bobby?" Dean asked, realizing that the grizzled hunter had not yet made an appearance.

"Here," a gruff voice from behind them called and the hunter turned to see Bobby coming up towards them through the grass, baseball hat askew, goose egg forming on his brow.

"Is Sam alright?" Bobby asked and Dean nodded.

"You?" the veteran hunter offered to the older brother.

"Thanks to Cas, we're both in one piece."

Bobby nodded, seeming to only notice the angel once Dean had mentioned him.

"You are suffering from a head injury, Robert," Cas said and stepped forward to meet the older hunter, "Allow me to heal it."

"Hey, Bobby, did you know something was up? You were yelling at me right before those two assholes hit me," Dean asked once the angel had healed his concussion.

The veteran hunter nodded, "I saw 'em and knew they weren't here for the carnival games."

Dean let out a deep breath, shocked by how close all of them had come to being seriously hurt, how close Sam had come to getting killed. If Cas hadn't arrived when he had…

"Sam has improved considerably since I last saw him," the angel said matter-of-factly.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, he's getting better."

Sam was sitting beside Dean, his head on his older brother's chest, eyes half-closed.

"I am glad," Castiel said.

"We'd better get out of here before someone calls the cops and Jody wants to question us," Bobby interrupted before anyone could speak again.

"Good idea," Dean agreed, "I've had enough of the fair anyway."

The older brother stood and helped Sam to his feet, pulling his brother up by his wrists.

"Hey Cas, you wanna-" Dean began but then realized that the angel had vanished.

Shoulders slumping slightly with disappointment, the elder Winchester tried not to appear too upset and began making his way towards the exit, Sam almost walking on top of him as he did so.

"Cas!" Dean called as the trio of hunters approached the Impala and he spied his friend standing beside the car.

"I cannot stay long," the angel said, as though he knew exactly what Dean wanted, "But I would like to hear what has happened since Sam's returned."

The older Winchester grinned and unlocked the Chevy, thoughts of murderous angels already the farthest thing from his mind.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

As they drove back to the Salvage Yard, Dean told Castiel all that had happened to them since he'd left them in Stull Cemetery.

The angel listened quietly, the hunter becoming excited whenever he relayed progress made by his brother and their newfound friendship in Marsha and Tori Dodd.

Rolling up the gravel driveway towards the Salvage Yard, Dean grew quiet.

"Is Sammy always going to be in danger?" he asked Castiel quietly, "Is he always going to be a target?

The celestial being didn't speak for a long moment, thinking on Dean's story of the demon attack and the more recent ambush by his fellow angels.

"I do not know," he admitted, "I can ensure that none of my brothers or sisters attempt to end Sam's life again. I cannot say the same about the demons, however."

Dean nodded, tight-lipped. He peered at his brother sitting silently in the front passenger's seat and he reached out to ruffle Sam's dark hair.

The younger man glanced at him gave him a smile.

"I wish you could stay longer," Dean told the angel and Castiel nodded.

"I would like that very much," he confessed, "But I must return to Heaven. There are still many repairs that must be made."

Dean nodded and opened his mouth to say goodbye to the angel when he blinked and the celestial creature was gone, vanished from the back seat of the Impala.

Sighing, the hunter exited the car and went around the front to help his brother out.

"Maybe once everything's not so topsy-turvy Upstairs," Bobby told Dean as he climbed from the classic Chevy and approached the Winchesters, "He'll be able to stay longer."

The younger man nodded, one hand gripping his sibling's elbow.

"I just… I miss him, you know?"

Bobby nodded, his expression sympathetic.

Dean led his brother up the porch and waited momentarily for Bobby to unlock the front door.

The grizzled hunter opened the door and motioned the Winchesters inside. Dean stopped Sam in the short foyer and helped his brother out of his coat and off with his shoes, the younger man not complaining as his sibling undressed him.

Heading into the kitchen, Dean saw Bobby take a couple of beers from the fridge and offered him one, "I feel like I need one of these and you sure as hell do."

The younger man took the beverage and nodded, "Maybe need more than one."

Bobby popped the cap off his bottle and gave Dean the stink-eye.

"I won't," the younger hunter promised, knowing that Bobby didn't want him to get soused when he was supposed to be looking after his brother, "Have I ever been pissed since Sam came back?"

The veteran hunter shrugged, "Not pissed, exactly, but there was that one time you drove all the way to Davidston and ended up in the ditch."

Dean glowered at Bobby for a moment before going to the fridge in search of a drink for his brother.

Spying a lone can of Coca-Cola, the hunter snagged it, pulled the tab up and handed the beverage to his younger sibling.

For about a minute, the three hunters stood silently, each man enjoying his drink. Finally Bobby set his beer down and cleared his throat.

"The hell was all that nonsense with the chickens?" he asked, "What was yer brother doing?"

Dean stared at Bobby; he had completely forgotten about that. He lowered his beer bottle and looked at the older man, "He let the damn thing out of its cage… why, I don't know."

Slowly, the older Winchester's gaze slid across the kitchen to his brother who was pointedly staring at the top of his soda can.

"Sammy?" Dean spoke his name but the younger man did not look up.

Leaving his drink on the table, Dean walked the few feet to his brother, "Sammy? What were you thinking? Why did you let that chicken out?"

Sam still refused to lift his head and he stepped restlessly from foot to foot.

"Sam," Dean pressed, "You can tell me. I won't get mad, I promise. C'mon, don't clam up on me now."

Green eyes rose up to meet Dean's hazel ones.

The older Winchester gave the younger an encouraging smile.

"…." Sam appeared to be thinking so Dean didn't speak again, giving his brother to time he needed.

"I… I'm… out…" Sam muttered, "….Free…."

Dean nodded without a word. Those four words spoke volumes to him. Sam had been rescued from Lucifer's Cage and it seemed that he had wanted to free the chicken from its cage.

"Oh, Sam," Dean sighed and wiped a hand down his face. He had no idea what to say to his brother.

The younger man's gaze slid downward again and Dean shook his head.

Forget it, he thought; anything I try to explain to him isn't going to make any sense.

Grabbing his beer from the table, Dean slumped into a chair and gave Bobby a troubled look.

Even though Dean wanted Sam to get better- to be the Sam he had once known- it was instances such as this when he had to face reality. Yes, Sam was recovering from whatever hell he'd been through in the Cage but it was unlikely he would ever completely recover.

There would still be moments when it would be glaringly clear that the younger Winchester was still struggling to get past his trauma- and perhaps always would- and no amount of wishing for the old Sam was going to change that.

Dean just had to keep his wits about him, be aware of Sam's mood and body language to know when something was off and hopefully calm his brother before he reacted.

As though Bobby had read his thoughts, he grumbled at the younger man before taking a deep swig of beer, "Yer the one who signed up for this when you asked Cas to bring Sam back."


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Later that night, long after he'd put his brother to bed, Dean climbed the stairs to the room he shared with Sam, drained.

He'd left the bedroom door open a couple of inches so Sam would be able to see the light from downstairs and Dean pushed it open now, eyes instantly landing on the form of his brother in the bed furthest from the hallway.

Deciding that he was too tired to change his clothes, Dean sat down on his bed and pulled off his boots. Standing and yanking the blanket down from the headboard, Dean paused, listening.

A soft, strained whimpering-mewling sound reached the hunter's ears, coming from the direction of the sleeping figure in the bed next to his.

"Shit," Dean breathed and dropped the blanket, crossing the end of his bed and moving up to the top of his sibling's.

How could he have completely not realized Sam may have nightmares after the angel attack?

Easing himself down on the edge of the mattress, the older Winchester gently laid a hand on his sibling's shoulder.

"Sammy," he called quietly.

Instantly he received a reaction. The younger Winchester's muscles grew tense and he stopped breathing, the sounds he had been making also quieting.

"Sammy," Dean spoke again, "It's just me, buddy."

Muscles relaxed and the older Winchester breathed a sigh of relief.

"D'n," Sam muttered.

"Yeah, Sammy," he confirmed and moved his hand as his brother sat up.

Dean had left the door open and in the glow of the downstairs lights Bobby had left on, he could see his brother's face was pale, his eyes wide and wet.

"Aw Sammy," the older Winchester murmured and pulled the younger into a tight embrace.

As was usual, Sam remained limp for a long moment before wrapping his arms tightly around Dean so that the older hunter felt as though steel bands were hugging him and not flesh and blood.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, wishing for the nth time there was something he could do to really help his brother.

The younger Winchester made no reply.

After a moment Dean spoke again, "Why don't we stop by and see Tori tomorrow? Would you like that?"

With his head pressed hard against Dean's shoulder, Sam nodded.

"Tori," the muffled name was spoken out loud and Dean smiled.

"Yeah, Sammy," he confirmed, "Tomorrow we'll go visit Tori."

W

Dean woke before Sam- as he usually did these days- and rose from his bed quietly, not wanting to wake his sibling.

As the hunter got dressed for the day in jeans, a grey t-shirt and a green-and-blue plaid button up shirt, he recalled his brother's frustration with zippers and buttons.

Deciding that he wasn't really in the mood to watch his sibling struggle to dress himself, Dean searched through Sam's clothes until he found an old pair of navy blue jogging pants- the kind with elastic at the cuffs of the legs and waistband- and a black t-shirt.

Turning to his slumbering brother, the elder Winchester reached out and touched Sam's shoulder, calling his name.

"D'n?"

The older brother smiled, "Mornin' Sammy."

The younger sibling sat up and rubbed at his eyes with his fists, just like a toddler.

"I'm gonna go downstairs and make some coffee but I'll be right back up, okay?" Dean assured his brother, "I've got your clothes for you so you can get a head-start on getting dressed. How's that sound?"

Sam's green eyes left Dean's face and slid across to the neatly folded clothes sitting on the older Winchester's bed.

Dean straightened his back and reached behind him, grabbing the clothing items, "Look, these'll be comfy and easy to put on, eh? And a t-shirt, no buttons!"

Sam made no response. He didn't take his gaze away from the clothes Dean was showing him.

"I'll be up in a minute or so," the older brother said again before leaving the room and heading downstairs, his need for caffeine egging him on.

SPN

Sam did not move from his bed, his eyes glued to the clothes that Dean has so conveniently picked out for him.

The younger Winchester's mouth twisted in a grimace as he sat up and reached out, picking up the t-shirt between his thumb and forefinger in a pincer grip.

Sam didn't want to wear the black t-shirt Dean had set out for him. He didn't want to wear the dark blue jogging pants. He wanted to wear his jeans and a flannel button-up shirt.

Dropping the shirt as though it had suddenly grown hot, Sam turned and gazed at the chest of drawers where he and Dean kept their clothes.

Standing and walking with exaggerated care in case Dean heard, Sam made his way to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. Reaching into the drawer, Sam shoved a neatly folded pile of shirts out of the way before spying one he liked.

It was a flannel button-up; a brown and orange and yellow and white tartan pattern with cream-coloured buttons up the front and on the cuffs.

Sam smiled and pulled the shirt from the drawer, dropping it on the floor.

Pushing the drawer closed, the young man yanked open another one, nearer to the bottom and chose a pair of blue jeans with the knees worn white and thin. Depositing the pants on the floor on top of the shirt, Sam straightened and grabbed the hem of the grey t-shirt he had slept in and pulled it up over his head. Next, he pushed the jogging pants he was wearing down around his ankles and spent a long minute kicking his feet until the pants were disentangled from his legs.

Anxious and excited to show Dean that he could dress himself, Sam picked up the flannel button-up he'd just pulled from the drawer.

SPN

Dean sat down at the kitchen table as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. He had intended to head back upstairs as soon as he'd set the coffee maker up but then decided he could wait. Sam usually took a bit of time nowadays to get motivated enough to roll out of bed so Dean wasn't concerned with leaving his brother alone. Besides, he was just upstairs in the guest bedroom, how much damage could he do?

Recalling his promise to his brother the night before, Dean stood up and grabbed one of the phones that hung on the kitchen wall, the one marked "Civilian" and served as Bobby's regular phone amongst others designated as "CIA", "FBI", "Homeland Sec." and the like.

Dialing Marsha's number despite the early hour, Dean decided that he should let his friend know of their intended visit instead of popping in unexpectedly. Besides, it would give Tori something to look forward to.

SPN

Sam fumbled with the small plastic buttons on the shirt's front, biting his lip in concentration, before giving up and settling on focusing on his pants, not even attempting to button the sleeves.

Sitting down heavily on the end of his bed, Sam reached down and pulled his jeans up towards him, shoving one foot into the pant leg. Smiling, he pushed his other foot into the second pant leg and yanked the jeans up.

SPN

"…Okay, see you then."

Dean grinned and hung the phone back in its cradle.

Marsha- though mildly surprised to hear from Dean so soon- had happily agreed to a visit and had told Tori the good news- the hunter hearing the little girl squealing with delight over the phone- and told the eldest Winchester they would love to have him and Sam come over, and Bobby too if he wanted to come along.

As Dean poured himself a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot, he realized just how much he had missed Marsha and he shook his head, smiling to himself. After Lisa and Ben, the hunter hadn't intended to get involved with anyone- at least not for a long time- and especially after Sam's rescue, but now it seemed as though his heart had other ideas.

"What're you grinnin' at?"

Dean jumped in surprise when Bobby's gruff voice came from the kitchen doorway.

"Sam and I are gonna visit Tori and Marsha," he told the veteran hunter before adding, "You're invited too, if you want."

Bobby squinted at Dean for a long moment, "Yer getting' feelings for that woman."

"What? No, of course not. Not me," Dean argued halfheartedly but his friend just smiled knowingly.

"Did you check in on Sammy on your way down?" Dean asked Bobby and the older hunter nodded.

"Got himself dressed."

The eldest Winchester smiled, glad his brother had been able to do yet another thing for himself.

"He manage with the t-shirt and joggers okay?" Dean asked Bobby.

The veteran hunter gave a noncommittal grunt and moved into the kitchen, heading towards the coffee maker.

Dean frowned and sat his own cup of coffee down and headed upstairs.

SPN

Sam looked up sharply when the bedroom door opened, expecting Dean.

Instead, it was Bobby who poked his head into the room.

The older man stared at Sam for a long moment before smiling and retreating, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Sam relaxed and pulled his pants the rest of the way up, standing and struggling with the large brass button and zipper.

SPN

Dean's heart skipped a beat, his nerves beginning to jangle with fear.

Which was stupid because if something had happened to Sam, Bobby would have told him.

But Dean couldn't help the feeling of anxiety creeping in on him as he made his way up the stairs and turned an immediate left, pushing open the door to the guest bedroom.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, his nerves relaxing and relief washing over him as his brother stared back at him with large green eyes.

The younger Winchester stood frozen, clothing lying crumpled around his feet, clothes draping his tall frame awkwardly. He had managed to get his arms through the sleeves of his flannel shirt but it was hiked up in the back, giving him a sort of a hunch, the cuffs splayed open and unbuttoned, the front held closed with three buttons that had been threaded through the wrong holes. His jeans looked in danger of slipping down his hips as they were unzipped and unbuttoned, the cuffs pooled around his feet.

"Sammy," Dean said and stepped further into the room, "I put clothes out for you."

He pointed to the t-shirt and jogging pants still sitting on his bed, though the shirt looked as though it had been picked up and discarded.

Sam's face scrunched up as his gaze followed his brother's finger and peered at the clothes on the bed.

"No!" he said vehemently.

"Sam-" Dean began but Sam spoke again.

"NO!"

The eldest brother jumped, startled by his brother's outburst.

"Don't wanna…" Sam muttered, quieter now, "Don't wanna…"

Dean held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, "Okay, okay Sammy. I won't make you wear those clothes if you don't want to."

He felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes but he blinked them back- now was not the time to get all emotional- and smiled at his brother.

"Can I help you with your shirt and pants?"

Sam hesitated, eyeing him warily as though not sure exactly what Dean meant before he nodded.

The older Winchester approached the younger and slowly unbuttoned his shirt before doing all the buttons up, cuffs included. Next, he hiked Sam's jeans up to where they were meant to sit and zipped and buttoned them.

Bending down, Dean gathered the clothes Sam had slept in and tossed them onto his brother's bed. Then, he grabbed the t-shirt and joggers he'd intended for Sam to wear- noticing his brother tensed up as he did so- before shoving them into the open dresser drawer and closing it.

Sam watched Dean warily, as though he was afraid his brother would demand he put on the clothes he had picked out for him.

Instead, Dean turned back to his brother and hugged him, "I'm so proud of you, Sammy."

His brother hesitated for a moment before strong arms wrapped around Dean's middle, almost crushing his ribs as Sam returned his embrace.

"Let's go downstairs and have some breakfast, what d'ya say?" Dean asked, holding Sam out at arm's length.

The younger Winchester nodded and followed Dean down the stairs onto the main floor.

Peering into the kitchen, Dean saw that Bobby was sitting at the table, drinking from his cup of coffee.

"Save some of that coffee for us," Dean joked and picked his own cup up off the kitchen table where he had left it.

Automatically the elder Winchester went to refrigerator and grabbed the plastic pitcher of grape juice that was sitting on the top shelf. Choosing a glass from the cupboard, Dean poured Sam some grape juice and handed him the cup.

"When are you planning on seeing the Tori and Marsha?" Bobby asked and Dean looked over at his brother.

Sam's eyes were wide and sparkling with excitement, his juice forgotten, and he was trembling with anticipation.

"Whoah, Sammy! We're gonna go see Tori this afternoon, okay? After lunch."

The younger Winchester's shoulders slumped slightly and he nodded, setting the glass of grape juice on the kitchen table and shoving it roughly away so that it tipped over and spilt.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed as the dark purple juice spread across the table and dripped onto the floor.

As the eldest Winchester moved to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess, he looked up to where his brother should have been standing to find that Sam was gone.

Dean sighed and gazed at Bobby.

"He was fine a minute ago," he said helplessly.

Bobby said nothing but continued to read his paper as though nothing had happened.

W

Dumping the wad purple-stained paper towels into the kitchen garbage, Dean turned his attention on finding his brother.

"Sammy?" he called as he peered through the kitchen doorway and into the living room.

"Sammy? You in here?" Even though he was sure his brother wasn't in the living room, he checked anyway- behind the couch, in front of the bookshelf, underneath Bobby's desk- but didn't find his brother.

Pausing to peer at the front door, Dean decided that his brother hadn't gone outside and instead made his way upstairs, calling his brother's name.

"Sam? Sammy? C'mon, where are you, man?"

A quick search of the guest bedroom, upstairs bathroom and even Bobby's bedroom revealed an absence of the youngest Winchester.

Taking a deep breath, Dean turned and headed back downstairs.

"Sammy? Sam! Where are you?"

Dean didn't bother checking the basement- the door was secured with a padlock to protect some of the dangerous items Bobby kept down there- and turned towards the main floor half-bath.

Easing the door open, Dean spied the large, dark shape of his brother sitting on the toilet.

"Sammy?" the hunter asked and flicked on the light.

Sam looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed.

"What's wrong? We're gonna see tori," Dean said and stepped into the small bathroom, wedging himself between the toilet and sink.

The older brother reached out automatically and laid a palm against his sibling's brow, checking his temperature.

Dean frowned; Sam was warm but he wasn't running a fever.

"What's wrong, Sammy? Talk to me," Dean urged, "If something's wrong, you know you can tell me, right?"

Sam bowed his head but said nothing.

Dean was at a loss for words.

"Why don't… Why don't I make you some breakfast?" Dean suggested and reached out his hand.

Sam took his outstretched hand and followed Dean out of the bathroom, the episode passing.

The hunter tried not to think about his brother's strange behaviour and instead busied himself with making Sam some toast with strawberry jam and peanut butter.

W

Dean read the front page of the paper as Bobby read the inside, sipping at his now cool cup of coffee. Sam sat beside him, munching quietly away on his toast.

Absentmindedly, Dean once again put his free hand against his brother's forehead and frowned to find his fingers were slick with sweat.

"Sammy, look up at me," Dean instructed and saw that his brother's green eyes were a little too bright.

"I think you're getting a fever there, Sam," the eldest Winchester muttered.

Dean wondered if he should maybe call Marsha back and call off the visit but then thought better of it; Sam would be heartbroken if he wasn't able to see Tori and a little fever wouldn't be dangerous if he gave his brother something.

SPN

Sam frowned as a chill ran up his spine and he looked to his brother. He shivered with such force that he dropped his toast, the slice landing jam-and-peanut butter side down on the linoleum floor.

Dean didn't even say anything as he bent down and picked up the piece of toast, stood and grabbed a handful of paper towels to wipe up the mess.

Sam looked away from his brother, picked up the second piece of toast, and took a bite.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, "Don't worry. We'll get some Tylenol into you and you'll be good as new in no time."

The younger Winchester gazed at his sibling from the corner of his eye and continued munching on his breakfast.

SPN

Dean peered at Sam from the kitchen doorway as his brother lay on Bobby's couch, watching some show on polar bears or panda bears or something like that.

"I don't know if we should go," the eldest Winchester said quietly to Bobby.

Dean had been sure his brother would be alright but as breakfast progressed he could see Sam's face growing paler and paler, beads of sweat standing out on his skin, eyes becoming red-rimmed and was seriously thinking of reconsidering his decision to visit the Dodds.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," Bobby told him, "If you go, Sam might not be up to it and won't enjoy it, but if you don't go, it'll just upset him now you've told 'im the plans."

"…And I don't want Tori or Marsha to get sick," Dean added.

Bobby just shrugged.

Dean ground his teeth in frustration. Peering out into the living room again, he decided to take a chance and take Sam to see his friend. Maybe Sam wasn't even getting sick and this would pass.

W

Dean tried to ignore the fact that Sam had fallen asleep on the couch as he stepped into the room to rouse him for lunch.

"Sam? Hey, Sammy, lunch is ready."

The younger Winchester opened his eyes slowly, reluctantly and blinked up at him.

"D'n?"

"Yeah," Dean smiled, "Let's have some lunch and then we'll go and see Tori, okay?"

Sam sat up with agonizing slowness and followed Dean into the kitchen.

As the elder Winchester followed his brother, he laid a hand against the back of Sam's neck and felt greasy sweat coating his skin, heat radiating off him like he was a furnace.

Dean sat down across from his brother, gesturing to the tuna sandwich and potato chips sitting on a saucer sat out for him, a couple of Tylenol pills sitting beside it along with a glass of water.

Sam stared at the sandwich, his pale face appearing to take on a greenish hue, and Dean frowned.

Slowly, the younger brother reached out and picked up a potato chip and crunched it without enthusiasm.

W

"Sammy, we're here," Dean told his brother as he pulled the Impala into a parking spot in the lot that served the Dodds' apartment building.

The younger man peered over at him blearily and smiled a little.

Please let him kick this quickly, Dean hoped and cut the Chevy's engine.

Exiting the vehicle and making his way around to the passenger's side, Dean unbuckled Sam's seatbelt and waited patiently for him to climb out of the car.

As Sam straightened he automatically reached out for Dean's arm and gripped it tightly.

The eldest Winchester did not protest and instead matched his pace with Sam's.

"Ah Sammy," Dean muttered, mostly to himself than his brother, "What are we going to do with you?"

The Winchesters took the elevator up to the Dodds' apartment, Dean's heart pounding.

He led Sam down the hallway towards their friends' door and stopped when they reached it.

Raising a hand, Dean rapped on the door sharply.

There was no response.

"Marsha?" Dean called loudly.

Still there was no response.

His 'hunter senses' tingling, Dean pushed his brother behind him protectively and tried the doorknob. It turned easily beneath his hand.

The lights were on in the apartment but it was eerily quiet.

"Stay here, Sammy," Dean told his brother and stepped forward, weaponless but ready to somehow defend Marsha and her daughter if need be.

As Dean stepped into the apartment's tiny entryway, he heard shuffling footsteps behind him; Sam was following him inside.

"Marsha? It's Dean and Sam. Is everything okay?"

The hunter stepped even further into the apartment.

"Tori? Marsha?"

Something was wrong. It just had to be. Marsha wouldn't leave the door unlocked like this and-

"SURPRISE!"

Dean jumped at the sudden gleeful shout as both mother and daughter popped out from behind the couch, grins on both their faces and wearing festive party hats.

"What… What's this?" Dean asked as Marsha stepped out from behind the couch, laughing.

"It was Tori's idea. She wanted to give you both a party for being such good friends."

Dean felt his face break into a grin as he looked down at the little girl who was giggling, one hand pressed against her mouth.

"Sammy!" Tori called and ran for his tall friend.

The child wrapped her arms around Sam's legs tightly, chin tilted up as she grinned at him.

"I hope you didn't have a big lunch," Marsha spoke to Dean as they went into the kitchen, "Tori wanted me to buy some food for our party."

Marsha gestured to three bags of potato chips, two 2-liter bottles of soda and a large slab cake sitting on the counter.

"Sam didn't eat very much," Dean replied seriously, "I think he'd getting a bit sick."

Marsha frowned, "Oh no."

Dean nodded, "I'm just hoping it's a twenty-four hour thing. I wasn't even sure I should bring him over because of Tori-"

Marsha who was pointing towards the living room stopped the hunter before he could continue. Dean followed her gaze and saw Sam and Tori. The younger hunter was sitting at one end of the couch with the little girl curled against him, looking as content as anything.

"I think they'll both be fine," Marsha smiled.

Dean couldn't help but agree.

"Now," Marsha said excitedly, "Let's get this party started!"


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Dean glanced over at his brother sleeping in the passenger's seat, curled against the door.

Sam had fallen asleep before they had even left the parking lot to the Dodds' apartment barely ten minutes ago.

Dean sighed and wiped a hand down his face. Sam had seemed to be doing fine while they had been with Marsha and Tori; he'd played with the little girl, ate and drank the celebratory fare without complaint, and was in an all around happy mood.

Now Dean just wanted to get Sam back to Bobby's and get him into bed for some rest. He didn't regret, though, taking Sam over to see Tori. His brother had been through a hell of a lot recently and seeing his young friend was good, therapeutic even for him.

In his sleep, Sam shifted against the passenger's side door, frowning before settling and sighing.

Dean tore his gaze away from his sibling long enough to turn onto the road that would take them to the Salvage Yard.

"You'll be okay, Sammy," the eldest Winchester murmured, "You always are."

SPN

Bobby looked up from his desk as Dean stepped inside, leading a very drowsy younger brother.

"Call you back, Rufus," the grizzled hunter muttered into the phone before settling it into the cradle and stood up, making his way to the Winchesters.

"He looks dead on his feet, Dean," the veteran hunter said, reached out to take one of Sam's arms; the younger man's eyes barely open.

"How was the visit with Marsha and Tori?" Bobby asked as Dean began to lead his brother towards the stairs.

"Good," the older brother told him, "Sammy had a great time."

Bobby hummed noncommittally and along with Dean helped his nearly unconscious brother up the staircase.

"D'n," Sam muttered, almost stumbling on the steps, "D'n."

"Shhh Sammy," the older brother muttered, "We're gonna get you into bed in just a minute."

Bobby glanced at Dean, frowning.

"He's okay," the younger hunter insisted.

Stepping up onto the landing, Bobby tightened his grip on Sam's arm as the younger hunter swayed dangerously and he once again met Dean's gaze.

"C'mon Sammy," the older brother encouraged, "This way, Sammy, c'mon."

"Want me to get anything?" Bobby asked, releasing his hold on the younger Winchester, seeing that Dean could handle it on his own now.

Dean shook his head, "I'm gonna get Sam to sleep and then I'll be down."

Bobby nodded and made his way down the stairs, back to his desk to call Rufus back.

SPN

Dean had Sam sit on his bed and he pulled his sibling's boots off. He didn't bother trying to wrestle his nearly unconscious sibling out of his clothes so he just grabbed the blankets off his own bed.

As Dean turned to drape the blankets over his sibling, he saw that Sam had fallen back against the mattress, eyes closed and breath coming in a slow, even rhythm; Sam was already asleep.

The elder brother sighed and settled the blanket over his sibling, tucking in the edges around Sam's body to help him feel secure and safe; just like he used to do when the younger hunter had been a child.

Deciding that he would let Sam sleep for a while, Dean left the guest bedroom, leaving the door ajar in case his brother called out to him.

The hunter headed downstairs and saw Bobby once again speaking to Rufus on the phone sitting on his desk. Dean motioned for the grizzled hunter to continue his conversation and he flopped down on the sofa, turning on the television with the remote and idly surfing the channels while he waited.

W

After several minutes- no more than ten- Bobby had finished talking to his on-again-off-again friend and looked up at Dean.

"Is Sam all right?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

The elder Winchester nodded, "He's fine, Bobby. Just has a bit of a bug. It'll clear up."

Bobby nodded but he didn't look convinced. Dean wondered if he should be worried; with their luck lately, it wouldn't be surprising if Sam ended up taking a turn for the worst.

No, Dean thought, that's not going to happen. Sammy just needs some rest and he'll be back to his usual self in no time.

"Want a beer?" the veteran hunter's question broke apart Dean's thoughts and the younger man nodded, "Sure."

Bobby stood and made his way to the kitchen.

"What did Rufus want?" Dean called as he listened to his friend open the refrigerator.

"Oh the usual," Bobby grumbled as he made his way back into the living room with a couple of cold ones, "To ask me for some research on a case he's working on and then chew me out for something that happened years ago."

Dean chuckled and took the can of beer Bobby handed to him, "Sounds like Rufus."

Bobby grunted a response and pulled the tab on his own beer.

Dean didn't open his own drink but stared at its round, silver aluminum lid for a long moment.

"What's he hunting?"

"Son-"

"Bobby! I know," Dean growled, more angrily than he meant to, "I'm just curious."

The older man didn't respond for a long moment. He took a slow sip of his beer, swirled the alcohol around in his mouth for a moment, and then swallowed, prolonging his answer.

"Nothin' too exciting," Bobby answered, "Just what might be a Rugaru down in Tampa, Florida."

Dean nodded but frowned, "Why does Rufus need your advice on a Rugaru hunt?"

"I said might," Bobby repeated, "But the strange thing is, only animals and a couple of children have been killed so far."

Dean leaned forward, now showing more interested.

"What kind of animals?"

The grizzled hunter looked like he'd wished he hadn't spoken but then he sat down at his desk and answered.

"Mostly family pets- cats, dogs that were left outside," he told Dean, "And the two kiddies were only little, two and five, playing in their backyard swimming pool after dinner."

"So it was twilight… almost dark when they were killed," Dean amended and Bobby nodded.

"Look," the older hunter spoke, "Son, I know you want to get back out there, you don't have to pretend you don't miss it…"

Dean shook his head.

"But after what happened when you went to Davidston-"

"I know, I know, Bobby. I swore off hunting and I meant it… It's just… when I hear about things like what's in Tampa, I can't help but think that I should be out there, hunting monsters and saving people."

Bobby nodded in sympathy.

"But then I see Sammy's face and I forget all about that 'cause I can't go hightailing it after Rufus or any other hunter," Dean continued, "I can't leave him here with you- that's not fair- and I can't take him with me- that's too dangerous for him- but… I just… I guess sometimes I wish he wasn't different now… that he was the old Sam and we could go off by ourselves and hunt."

The grizzled hunter said nothing, just letting Dean get out what he needed to. He'd actually thought the younger man had been doing quite well during the past few weeks, but he guessed that that sort of thing could bottle up, hell, he even wished he was out there taking on baddies like he had when he was younger but most of the time Bobby didn't miss it and was content to stay at the Salvage Yard and help other hunters fight the good fight.

Finally Dean opened his can of beer and took a long drink.

"Feel better?" Bobby asked.

Dean swallowed and shook his head.

"No," he muttered, "But I'm used to that."

Bobby gave a wry smile.

Dean sighed and took another drink of beer. He'd really hoped he'd gotten over his desire to hunt. Of course, he'd always feel as though it was his job, his duty to protect people but he also had another responsibility: to look after Sam and that came before everything else, even hunting. For a while, Dean had been content and focused on his brother's slow recovery but after hearing about Rufus' current hunt… well, he just couldn't help himself. He felt that old desire bubble up in him again, his curiosity burning and for a few moments, Sam had taken the backseat.

"Ah what am I doing, Bobby?" the eldest Winchester asked, "What the hell am I really doing?"

The grizzled hunter had no answer.

SPN

Sam whimpered in his sleep and rolled over onto his side, curling up into the fetal position as he did so.

The younger Winchester frowned in his sleep and shivered, sweat beading on his brow and making his bangs stick to his skin in damp clumps.

"D'n," Sam muttered and his eyes slid open slowly.

The hunter's heart began to beat quickly when he realized that he was alone.

"D'n?" Sam called his brother's name a little louder but received no response.

The young man sat up quickly and groaned when he suddenly felt dizzy. Closing his eyes, Sam swallowed and called out his sibling's name again.

Again there was no response.

Sam whimpered and hugged himself.

Where was Dean?

Why was he alone?

Sam wanted to get up and search for his sibling but just looking at the bedroom floor made him feel nauseous and he groaned miserably.

"D'n," Sam whispered, "D'n… help… D'n…"

SPN

Bobby glanced at the half-dozen empty beer cans sitting on the coffee table in front of the younger hunter.

"That's it," he growled, "Yer cut off."

"Bobby," Dean replied, almost whining, almost, "I'm fine. I can drink a whole lot more without getting plastered."

The grizzled hunter nodded, "Aye, I know, but with yer brother sick you don't need to be impaired at all."

Dean glared at the older man; how dare Bobby treat him like a child? Then he nodded, realizing that although he wasn't drunk he was riding on a nice buzz already.

Sighing, the elder Winchester wiped a hand over his face and stood, slowly making his way to the kitchen.

"Stay outta my fridge!" Bobby barked a warning.

Dean lifted a hand and waved the hunter's words away, "I'm getting a soda."

The grizzled hunter heaved a long-suffering sigh and shook his head; what am I gonna do with these boys?

He looked up as Dean reentered the living room, can of Coke in one hand. For a moment Bobby watched the younger man with suspicion until Dean sat down on the couch again and with his free hand pushed the beer cans to one side of the coffee table to make room for his soda.

Glancing into the kitchen to check the clock on the stove, Bobby suggested that he go see how their youngest family member was doing.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise as though he'd just remembered Sam was in the house with them, and then he swore and made to stand up.

"I'll go," Bobby held out a hand to stop the younger man, "You just sit tight."

Dean, now looking guilty and sheepish, nodded before taking a noisy slurp of his Coke.

Leaving Dean, Bobby made his way up the staircase to the second floor of his house, hoping that the younger Winchester was still sleeping soundly.

Seeing that the older brother had left the guest bedroom's door slightly open, Bobby peeked into the room so as not to disturb the younger man.

Aw shit, the grizzled hunter thought when he saw Sam sitting up, arms wrapped around his middle, shaking visibly.

"Sam," Bobby called as he pushed open the door, "Son, y'all right?"

It was clear to the grizzled hunter that Sam was in fact not all right but he felt the need to speak the question anyway.

The young hunter jerked his head to the side as though he hadn't noticed Bobby until then and the older man saw Sam's face was as white as paper, his eyes red-rimmed.

Bobby stepped into the room and sat down on the bed beside Sam. Sam closed his eyes as he continued to shiver.

Raising one calloused hand, the veteran hunter pressed his palm against Sam's brow.

"Yer burning up all right," Bobby muttered to himself.

"D'n…" Sam mumbled, "Where… D'n…"

The grizzled hunter peered at the young man. Sam's eyes were now open and although glassy they flickered from side to side as though he was searching for the brother in question.

Bobby turned his head towards the open doorway, "DEAN! GIT UP HERE!"

The pounding of footsteps that followed that exclamation almost made the veteran hunter feel bad since he'd made it seem as though Sam was at Death's door but the sight of Dean Winchester, his chest heaving as though he'd just run a marathon, hanging on the doorframe, eyes wide and fearful.

"Sam needs you," Bobby said calmly, "He's burning with fever."

"Jesus, Bobby!" Dean growled, "Don't do that to me!"

The older hunter didn't respond.

"I'll go get him some Tylenol," Bobby said instead and stood up.

Dean hurried into the room and took the grizzled hunter's vacated spot on the bed. Sam leaned against his older brother, his head resting on Dean's shoulder.

Bobby smiled thinly and left the brothers alone for a moment to go and fetch the promised medicine.

SPN

Sam closed his eyes as he rested his cheek against Dean's shoulder, soaking up the warmth from his brother's body.

"D'n," the young hunter mumbled, "D'n."

"I'm right here, Sammy," Dean whispered and Sam could smell beer and Coca-Cola on his breath, "I'm not going anywhere."

Sam shivered, though not with cold, as one of Dean's arms wrapped around his shoulders and seemed to draw him even closer.

Dean hadn't left him.

He wasn't alone.

SPN

Bobby watched as Dean sat beside his brother, brushing Sam's bang back from his forehead; the younger man's eyes slowly falling closed under his sibling's ministrations.

Bobby had found the Tylenol and then decided to make up some soup for the younger Winchester since he was awake, leaving the brothers on their own for a time.

SPN

As Dean sat with his ill sibling, he silently chastised himself for even thinking about hunting right now, even if he didn't really plan on running off to chase whatever monster Rufus was facing. He had left the life of a hunter when Cas had brought Sam back- he'd made that promise to himself and his brother- and he was going to keep it.

"How're you feeling, Sammy?" Dean murmured to his brother and Sam gave a quiet grunt in response.

Frowning, Dean pressed his palm against his brother's forehead even though he knew Sam had a fever.

Lowering his hand, Dean sighed, "Can't you ever catch a break, Sam?"

The younger Winchester opened his green eyes ever so slightly before closing them again and nuzzling his cheek against Dean's shoulder.

SPN

Bobby made his way up the steep staircase, carefully balancing a bowl of soup in one hand and a glass of water for the Tylenol in the other.

As the grizzled hunter reached the landing he paused when he caught sight of the two Winchesters sitting together on Sam's bed and he knew that for all his desire to get back into the action, Dean would never willingly leave his brother again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have had a great Christmas vacation and a happy New Year!   
> Please take a moment to leave Kudos or a Comment, it would be greatly appreciated.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dean frowned and squinted as bright sunlight slipped through the window's curtains to slash directly across his closed eyes.

Groaning, the hunter sat up and wiped a hand over his face.

"Sammy?" he muttered, turning automatically to the bed beside his where his brother should be resting.

The elder Winchester felt a stab of panic pierce his heart when he saw that his brother's bed was empty, the sheets rumpled.

"Sam?" he asked and peered around the room, "Sammy?"

Swinging his legs out of bed, Dean stood up and padded across the floor to the door, opening it and peering into the hallway. Bobby's bedroom door- at the far end of the corridor- was closed tightly and Dean could hear nothing from downstairs, a sign that the grizzled hunter was still asleep.

"Sammy," Dean hissed and jumped when a loud crash resounded from the main floor of the house.

"SAM!" the hunter shouted and ran down the staircase; terrified at what he might find when he reached the bottom.

The sound had originated in the kitchen and Dean hurried towards the room, his heart pounding in his chest.

"SAM!"

The younger Winchester peered sheepishly at his brother from the middle of the kitchen, the floor around his feet littered with pieces of broken dishes.

"Sam, what are you doing? Are you okay?" Dean asked his brother as he stepped carefully into the room to avoid the shrapnel.

"I… I…" Sam stammered, wringing his hands nervously.

"Hey, hey," Dean interrupted, reaching out to his sibling, "I'm not mad."

"Hungry," Sam muttered, lowering his head to stare at the mess on the floor, "Want… breakfast."

Dean nodded and took a hold of Sam's right forearm, "C'mon, step over the mess… yeah, like that, you've got it."

The younger Winchester followed his sibling's instructions and took a long-legged step over the broken dishes and closer to Dean.

"You feeling better?" the older brother asked and placed a hand first on Sam's brow and then against the side of his face, relieved to feel no unnatural heat pouring off his sibling.

Dean smiled. Three days had passed since they'd gone to visit the Dodds' and Sam had been battling a high fever the entire time. It had gotten so bad that Dean and Bobby had seriously considered taking Sam to the hospital if the fever hadn't broken by that very morning; luckily, the younger Winchester seemed to be recovering.

Still pale, with dark circles beneath his eyes, Sam was most certainly feeling well enough to venture down to the kitchen and try fixing himself something to eat.

"How about I clean this up and then I'll get you breakfast?" Dean asked his sibling.

Sam nodded then lowered his head, fiddling with the hem of the black t-shirt he was wearing.

"Bobby's… mad?" he muttered.

"Bobby's still asleep," Dean told him, "And he won't be mad at you, I promise."

The younger brother looked up and gave a weak smile.

Dean told his brother to stand in the doorway, away from the dangerous pieces of broken dishes, while he grabbed the broom and dustpan from the pantry and began to sweep up the mess.

"You feelin' better, son?"

Bobby's voice made Dean jump- again- and the hunter turned around to see the older man standing just behind his brother, talking to Sam.

"He is," Dean answered for his brother and Bobby glanced at him.

"What happened?" the veteran hunter asked and Dean saw Sam shift uncomfortably.

"Sammy came down here to get some breakfast," Dean explained.

Bobby nodded but said nothing.

"Bowls… broke," Sam muttered and glanced anxiously at the older man from the corner of his eye.

Bobby smiled, "Glad yer feeling well enough to break my things."

Sam's eyes widened and he turned to look at Dean, clearly not sure if Bobby was angry with him or not. The older Winchester smiled at his brother and finished sweeping the broken ceramic into the dustpan.

"Okay Sammy," he said, "What'll it be?"

Sam shuffled into the kitchen, Bobby following behind him.

"I wouldn't mind some fried eggs and toast," the grizzled hunter said and made his way over to his coffee maker.

"Eggs sound great," Dean agreed, "You feel like eggs, Sammy?"

The younger man nodded once and dropped into a kitchen chair.

Dean smiled and began gathering the ingredients to make breakfast.

SPN

Bobby was just finishing his second cup of coffee, reading the newspaper while Dean was scraping toast crumbs and bits of egg from the breakfast dishes; Sam watching his brother with what appeared to be mild curiosity when the telephone rang.

The grizzled hunter lowered the paper, glancing to the wall to see which of the half-dozen phones needed attention and smiled with relief when he saw that it was the one marked "Singer Salvage"; there was no impending doom for all mankind occurring then.

"I'll get it," Dean said casually as Bobby made no attempt to get up and went back to reading his paper, assuming someone needed a tune-up on their car and had been told by one of the locals that he was the man to see.

"Marsha," Dean spoke after a slight pause and Bobby once again lowered his newspaper to see the younger hunter smile.

Turning his attention away from the elder Winchester, to give him some semblance of privacy- all the while tuning one ear in on the one-sided phone conversation- Bobby looked to Sam, who hadn't moved from his spot at the kitchen sink where Dean had left him.

Sam stood still, hands hanging limply at his sides for a long moment, seeming to stare into space- or out the window above the sink that showed a view of the weed-choked front yard- before his arms began to move slowly, stiffly upwards.

Bobby watched in fascination as Sam raised his hands and almost cautiously dipped them into the warm, soapy water in the sink. The grizzled hunter held his breath for a moment, not sure what the younger man was going to do and curious to find out, when Sam lifted a plate from the water and as carefully as though he were holding a newborn infant, placed it in the drying rack already half-full with breakfast dishes.

The plate was not clean; Bobby could still see egg yolk sticking stubbornly to its glistening surface but said nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Okay," Dean was saying to Marsha, his tone happy to an outsider but Bobby caught a hint of doubt hiding just beneath the surface, "That sounds great. Sammy'll love that."

Bobby half-listened as Dean bade goodbye to the woman and then hooked the phone back in its cradle, "That was Marsha, she said Tori wants to-"

The veteran hunter turned to see Dean had turned around to face the interior of the kitchen and had his eyes locked on his brother's back as Sam continued to pull the breakfast dishes from the sink and place them on the drying rack.

Dean's mouth opened, as though he were about to speak again but Bobby held up a hand, giving the young man a look. The elder Winchester's mouth snapped shut and a smile once again tugged at his lips.

A moment passed before Sam appeared to notice the silence in the kitchen and turned around, water sloshing out of the sink and onto the floor, taking a step back and ducking his head as though he'd been caught doing something naughty.

"Keep going, Sammy," Dean encouraged, "You're doing a great job."

The younger brother looked up, surprise clear on his face and he gave a slight smile, turning back to the sink.

Bobby caught Dean's eye and grinned; we can always clean the dishes proper later, the veteran hunter told himself, let the boy have this.

Bobby knew that sometimes it didn't see as though Sam was getting better, getting over what had happened to him while trapped in the Cage and it was moments like this one, where the young man was engaged in something so mundane as washing dishes yet it was so important to him, and his brother. Bobby wished he could just take a photograph of these times to help remind Dean whenever he was feeling as though everything was going wrong.

Sam sat the last dish in the tray and turned around to face Dean and Bobby, his expression sheepish.

"I… do… good?" Sam asked quietly, eyeing Dean pleadingly.

The older brother grinned, "You did great, Sammy, you did great."

Bobby gave a wide smile and folded his paper closed.

"What did Marsha have to say?"

Dean, who had grabbed the tea towel from where it lay across the handle on the oven, took a moment to respond, apparently trying to figure out just what to say.

"Dean? Why did Marsha call?" Bobby pressed, wondering why the young man was suddenly hesitant to speak.

"She…uh… She and Tori are going on a vacation next week," Dean began, using the tea towel to dry Sam's wet hands as he spoke, "They go to the East Coast every year- Marsha's mother took her when she was little to see her aunts- and eat lobster and swim in the ocean and see the sights for a few days and… well, hm…"

Bobby raised an eyebrow, "Spit it out."

"Tori wants Sam to come," Dean finished hastily.

The grizzled hunter blinked at the younger man for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Dean scowled.

"That's a great idea!" Bobby exclaimed, "Sam'll love that, don't you think?"

Dean crossed his arms, "That's just it. They want Sam to go with them. Just Sam."

Bobby stopped laughing and sighed.

"Feeling jealous, are you?"

"No!" Dean exclaimed, making his brother jump, "But you know Sammy, he's a magnet for trouble and ever since he came back he's always been one step away from nearly getting killed."

Bobby sobered up. He could see Sam stepping anxiously from foot to foot.

"Are you sure Marsha didn't say anything about you going with them or was it implied?"

"She didn't say anything about me," Dean retorted, nearly pouting, "She said Tori wanted Sam to go with them. That's it."

"Well," Bobby said slowly, scratching his greying beard, "I think it seems like a good idea."

Dean's mouth opened in shock, "You want Sam to go with Marsha and Tori by himself?"

"Yes, Dean," Bobby said in exasperation, "Marsha wasn't born yesterday. She knows about monsters and she can hold her own against them, if you remember."

The elder Winchester nodded, closed-mouthed, "But-"

"And I know you think Sam would be safer staying here with us- and I'm not saying he ain't- but we can't keep him cooped up in this house twenty-four/seven. You know we can't."

Bobby could almost see the gears turning in Dean's head before the young man opened his mouth to speak again.

"You're right, of course," he muttered, "You're right."

Dean glanced to his brother and gave a small smile.

"Can't keep you locked up in here all day, everyday," the older brother said quietly, "That's not fair to you."

Sam gave a weak smile in return though he seemed as though he wasn't quite sure what his brother and Bobby were talking about.

"See Tori?" he asked hopefully and Dean nodded, "Yeah, Sammy, you'll get to see Tori."


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

The week leading up to Marsha, Tori and Sam's trip to the East Coast Dean was beside himself with worry.

His mind was working overtime, creating awful scenarios in which the Dodd women and Sam were either maimed or killed; each one more gruesome and gut wrenching than the last.

Dean seriously considered calling the vacation off, telling Marsha that Sam wasn't allowed to go or else that he demanded to come with them too.

He'd hoped that the red-head had simply forgotten to include him as well when she'd proposed the idea, when she'd called that morning but to Dean's shock, it was not so. He wasn't invited. Just Sam.

If it had been anyone else wishing to take his brother away on a weeklong trip without him, Dean would have been suspicious. However, knowing it was Marsha- a civilian- did nothing to assuage his nerves.

Dean hadn't even wanted to talk about the impending vacation with his brother, allowing that task to fall on Bobby's shoulders and even then he wasn't sure how much was getting through to Sam. The younger man hadn't been away from Dean's side ever since he'd returned from Davidston. The older Winchester was worried how Sam would react once he realized he wasn't coming along for the ride too.

Dean tried to smile and keep his mood light the morning his brother and the Dodds were scheduled to leave for their vacation but it was more difficult than he'd thought it would be. He didn't know what he was supposed to do while Sam was gone. Since Cas had rescued Sam from the Cage, Dean had spent almost every day with his brother at his side, and knowing that he was going to be without him for several days made the elder Winchester sick to his stomach.

Sitting across the kitchen table from his brother, Dean gripped his mug of coffee tightly as he watched Sam slowly munch his way through a bowl of cereal.

"Is everything ready?" Bobby asked from behind his newspaper, sitting beside the younger Winchester.

"Yeah," Dean muttered, "I double-checked this morning before Sammy woke up."

Bobby lowered his paper and looked at Dean.

"How'd 'e react to the suitcase?"

The elder Winchester shrugged; he had pulled the old suitcase of Bobby's out of the guest bedroom's closet earlier in the week while Sam was out of the room and surreptitiously slipped his brother's clothes inside, hiding the case beneath his bed until this morning. He knew he was likely being foolish, as soon as he'd uncovered the case from under the bed; Sam hadn't even given the thing a second glance. Clearly Sam hadn't put two and two together because Bobby had told him that Marsha and Tori wanted him to go on vacation with them.

"Dean, don't you think yer worrying about something that there ain't no need to worry about?" the grizzled hunter asked his younger friend.

The elder Winchester opened his mouth to speak but he was interrupted; "Don't answer that."

"Marsha may not be a hunter, but she ain't no greenhorn either," Bobby continued, "We've seen first hand she can hold her own against the beasties that go bump in the night."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Dean muttered and gulped down a large mouthful of hot coffee.

Just as he was reaching for a page Bobby had discarded from his newspaper, a rapping at the front door startled him.

"They can't be here already!" Dean exclaimed and stood up. Sam, however, continued to eat his cereal placidly.

Leaving the kitchen, the hunter headed towards the front door. Pausing before opening it, he took a deep breath and smiled.

"Hey!" Dean greeted Marsha and Tori as they stood on the front porch, the woman's car idling in the driveway.

"I know we're early but Tori couldn't wait," the redhead explained apologetically.

"That's okay," Dean said and held the door open for the Dodd women, "Sammy's just finishing his breakfast."

Tori ran ahead into the kitchen as her mother and Dean lingered.

"Marsha," the elder Winchester began, "Are you sure you're okay with bringing Sammy along? 'Cause we can call the whole thing off; I'm sure you and Tori will have a blast-"

"Dean," Marsha said and stopped him with her hands on his arm, "Don't you trust me?"

"I do, I do, Marsha," he insisted, "It's just that… I have barely had Sam out of myself since he… since Cas rescued him and well, as you know, he's a magnet for trouble."

The woman smiled, "It's going to be okay. I'll call you as soon as we stop and let you know how Sam's doing."

Dean smiled back but it wasn't very convincing.

"C'mon Sammy, c'mon!"

He looked to the kitchen doorway where Tori and his brother were standing; the little girl holding onto one of the hunter's hands and jumping up and down excitedly.

Marsha gave Dean's arm a comforting squeeze before going to her daughter and picking her up.

"I'll be right back, Sam," Dean said and headed upstairs to the guest bedroom to get the suitcase.

It's gonna be okay, Dean told himself as he made his way up to the room he shared with his brother, It's gonna be all right.

Stepping into the guest bedroom, Dean barely glanced around the interior before grabbing the suitcase and leaving the room.

Sam will be fine, Dean thought fiercely; he's gonna have the time of his life with Tori and Marsha.

Stomping down the staircase, the elder Winchester forced himself to smile, knowing that if he moped Bobby was bound to chew him out later for his negativity.

Tori, Marsha and Sam had moved to the front hall and the redheaded woman was helping the younger Winchester with his shoes.

Dean's smile became genuine as he watched Marsha with his brother and thought: maybe Sammy will have a good time without me.

Straightening, Marsha accepted the suitcase from Dean and grinned.

"C'mon Mommy! Can we go now?" Tori whined and grabbed the hem of Marsha's shirt with one hand while with the other she still gripped Sam's fingers.

"Patience, Tori," Marsha admonished her daughter before turning back to Dean.

"We really appreciate you letting Sam come with us," Marsha told the hunter, "We've been doing this trip ever since Tori was a baby and it was always just the two of us so she thought Sam might like to come along and see the East Coast."

Dean smiled, "We've been there tons of times… just not for a vacation."

Marsha nodded, "I guess it's different when you're trying to save people from some monster. You can't enjoy the beach or the architecture or the history."

Dean shrugged. He had never really been interested much in the architecture or history of the East Coast but he did vividly recall an illegal beach party he'd gone to when he'd been fifteen where there had been drinking and girls.

"Anyway, I know this must make you crazy with nerves- I felt the same way actually when Tori slept over here- but I promise, Sam will have fun and we'll all come back in one piece," Marsha assured Dean, "We'll be back before you know it."

"Mommy! Please!" Tori whined louder, tugging sharply on the hem of Marsha's shirt.

The woman looked down at her child, "Okay, okay. I just had to talk to Dean. Remember how I said it's scary for him to be without Sam?"

The little girl released her hold on her mother's shirt and nodded, big-eyed.

Dean smirked and followed the two women and his brother out the door; Bobby close on his heels.

Marsha unlocked the trunk of her car and settled Sam's suitcase alongside hers and Tori's. Next, she got her daughter into her car seat while Bobby strapped Sam in beside her.

"Is there any last-minute things I should know?" Marsha asked Dean.

The hunter sighed and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, "I… uh… I don't know how Sam's gonna react when he realizes I'm not coming too."

Marsha nodded.

"Last time… he kind of zoned out…"

Dean looked to Bobby but the grizzled hunter had no answers.

"Sam really likes Bon Jovi…" Dean continued slowly, feeling as though he was grasping at straws, "Maybe if you played that for him on the radio or something it'd calm him down or whatever."

Marsha smiled, "You're in luck; I love Bon Jovi. I have a bunch of his CDs in the car."

Dean smiled back thinly.

"Promise to call as soon as you stop," he asked and the woman nodded, already turning to head to the front of the car.

"I will, Dean," Marsha sat down in the driver's seat, did her seatbelt up and waved quickly before closing the door.

The elder Winchester raised his hand in a half-hearted wave.

He jumped when Bobby's hand fell on his shoulder and the car rumbled to life.

"Sam will be all right, Son," the grizzled hunter assured him gruffly, "They'll all be all right."

Dean watched, his throat pinched, as the car began to make its way down the gravel drive towards the fence that separated Singer Salvage from the road.

"Yeah," he muttered, "Yeah, you're right."

SPN

Sam didn't like the seatbelt across his chest. It wasn't like the Impala's seatbelt. He didn't like Tori's car either. It wasn't like the Impala. It didn't look like her or smell like her. Sam didn't like to be sitting in the back. He never sat in the back, always the front, beside Dean. But it wasn't Dean getting into the driver's seat. It was Marsha.

Maybe Dean was going to sit beside her like Tori was sitting beside him. Sam listened to Marsha talking to Dean as she did up her own seat belt before raising a hand and waving and closing the door.

Dean will come into the car now, Sam thought and turned his head to the right, waiting expectantly for his brother.

The young man jumped when the engine rumbled to life and Dean didn't come to the car. Sam twisted in his seat, staring out the back window at his brother. Dean was standing behind the car, waving back at him.

Sam frowned. Why wasn't Dean coming to the car?

The hunter felt the car begin to move and still Dean remained where he was.

Dean? Sam wanted to say but his mouth was dry.

Dean! Sam reached out with one hand and touched the back window, pressing his palm against it.

"Oh shit!" he heard Marsha swear from the front seat and the car slowed down but did not stop completely.

Sam heard the woman fumbling with something in the front of the car and thought that maybe she realized they'd forgotten Dean and now he'd come with them.

Music suddenly filled the car, a song Sam knew, and in the back of his mind gave a name to, but he barely paid attention.

They were getting farther and farther away from Dean. Where were they going? Why wasn't Dean coming too?

Sam struggled to find meaning for this and he recalled Bobby talking to him, telling him he- Sam- was going on a trip to the East Coast with Tori and Marsha. Sam tried to remember if Bobby had said Dean was going too but the rest of Bobby's words were lost in fog.

"Dean," Sam muttered and turned around in his seat.

Had Bobby said he was coming back? Or would he be with Marsha and Tori forever now? Try as he might, Sam couldn't remember the rest of Bobby's word.

"Sam, are you okay?"

He didn't answer Marsha's question.

"Sammy, you 'kay?"

He didn't answer Tori's question either.

Instead, Sam wrapped his arms around his middle and stared out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to leave Kudos or a Comment. Either one would be greatly appreciated.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sam didn't know what to think.

He knew that Tori and Marsha were his friends but being without Dean, well that frightened him.

With his arms wrapped tightly around his middle, the hunter stared at the back of the driver's seat, listening to Marsha sing along to the music coming from the speaker.

"Can we go to the beach when we get to the East Coast, Mommy?" Tori asked from where she sat in her car seat beside Sam.

"Of course we can," the redhead replied, and then asked if Sam had ever been to a beach.

The young man didn't answer.

Dean wouldn't abandon him. No, that wasn't possible. Dean wouldn't allow that to happen. They must be coming back to South Dakota, they must be.

But when?

"W-When?" Sam asked quietly. Too quietly it seemed because Marsha continued singing and didn't respond.

"When?" the young man repeated, his voice slightly louder.

"What's that, Sam?" the woman asked and turned down the music.

The hunter didn't speak for a moment.

"…When…"

In the rearview mirror he could see Marsha frowning.

"When what, Sam?"

Shifting his gaze to the side window, Sam spoke again, "Coming back…when."

"Coming back from the East Coast?"

Sam nodded once.

"On Friday."

The hunter relaxed. They'd be coming back. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips and he let his arms drop to his sides as he stared at the town of Sioux Falls flash by his window.

SPN

Dean remained in the driveway long after Marsha's car was no longer visible.

Bobby walked up to the younger man and placed a calloused hand on his shoulder.

"They'll be fine, Son."

"Then why do I have this sinking feeling in my stomach?" Dean asked and without waiting for Bobby to respond, turned around and walked back to the house.

SPN

Sam gripped Tori's small hand in his much larger one as tightly as he dared without hurting the girl. They followed close behind Marsha as the woman led them across the crowded parking lot of the yellow-and-red fast-food restaurant.

Sam felt sweat break out on his forehead and his mouth grew dry. He forced himself to stare straight ahead, even if that meant he had to stare at the life-sized figure of Ronald McDonald sitting on the end of a bench in front of the store, one garishly painted leg crossed casually over one equally gaudy thigh.

"Can I have a Happy Meal, Mommy?" Tori asked, tugging on Sam's hand in an attempt to speed up his pace.

"Sure," Marsha replied casually, "Cheeseburger or hamburger?"

"Cheeseburger please," the little girl piped up, eyes sparking at the sight of the Golden Arches.

Marsha held the door open for her daughter and Sam and the young man's eyes widened, not with excitement but with anxiety.

There were three lines of customers trailing from the trio of cash registers at the counter almost to the front door itself. The crowd, mainly composed of families, was boisterous and fidgety, unpredictable.

Sam stopped moving just inside the second set of doors, causing Tori to stumble back a couple of steps and peer up at him.

"C'mon Sammy," she cajoled and tugged at his hand.

"Sam?" Marsha asked and turned to look at the young man as well.

The hunter did not respond, his gaze resting upon the crowd of hungry people in front of him.

"Maybe we should-" Marsha began but then the hunter took a shuffling step forward, his grip on the little girl's hand tightening.

As he came abreast of Marsha, the woman looked concernedly at him.

"Are you okay, Sam?" She asked.

Tight-lipped, he didn't answer but continued to move forwards toward the end of the line stretching out in front of him.

He heard Marsha let out an audible breath as she moved forward to join him and her daughter.

"Look Mommy! A play place! Can I go in? Can I? Please?" Tori pointed to a section of the restaurant that was separate from the dining area by a large scuffed and smeared Plexiglas wall. An open doorway in the center of the wall allowed the sounds of laughing and shouting children playing in the multicoloured tunnels or ball pit to filter through.

"Why don't you wait until after we've eaten?" Marsha suggested and although Tori gave one longing look at the play area, nodded and shook Sam's hand excitedly.

"Look Sammy!" The child pointed to the collection of Happy Meal toys displayed in a case shaped like Ronald McDonald beside the line of customers, "I want a Pony in my Meal!"

The selection of toys were divided by gender- My Little Ponies for girls and Transformers for boys- and positioned in the perfect location to encourage the buying of the child's-sized meals. Other children in line were also excitedly babbling about what Autobot they wanted or which Pony they thought was the prettiest.

Tori, encouraged by the chatter of the other children began talking about the toys as well; "I want the purple one, no, the blue one! No, the pink one! Mommy, can I have the pink one?"

"We'll see, Tori," Marsha told her daughter distractedly. She was more concerned with how Sam was doing in this loud, crowded fast-food joint than what toy came in her child's meal.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, the woman thought. We should have gone through the Drive-Thru; ate in the car-

"Ma'am, may I take your order?"

Marsha startled, surprised to find they were at the front of the line.

"Uh, yes," she stammered, feeling flustered, "One minute, please."

Turning to the younger Winchester, Marsha opened her mouth to speak to him, "Sam, do you want-"

Instead of finishing her question, Marsha decided to order for the young man, realizing that he most likely wouldn't care what he ate.

"Can I get a Big Mac with a large order of fries, a child's cheeseburger Happy Meal- can you put a pink pony toy in the meal- and a Filet-O-Fish with a large fry."

"Anything to drink?" the girl at the cash register asked. Marsha noticed her gaze sliding to the side to take in Sam's large frame- and undoubtedly passive expression- before it returned to her face and she offered a forced smile that said "I-Hate-My-Job".

"Yes, um, two medium Pepsis and can I get milk in the Happy Meal?"

"Sure thing," the girl answered and punched the drinks into the cash register, "That'll be fifteen-sixty."

As Marsha began to pull out the correct amount of cash from her wallet, she sensed rather than saw Sam's entire body tense. She didn't even know how she knew; maybe her Mother's Instincts were working on the young man as they worked whenever Tori was in trouble.

"Sam-" the woman spoke his name and looked up, money in her hands and saw that the young man wasn't even looking at her. He had completely turned around to face the doors to the restaurant where two women had just entered.

Marsha frowned. The two women didn't look threatening at all, in fact, if she had to guess they were mother and daughter. The younger wore a bright yellow crop-top, low-cut jeans and sparkly flip-flops. She was quite obviously chewing gum and flicked her bright blue hair back from her pale shoulders. The older woman was dressed more sedately in grey dress slacks, an off-white blouse and black heels.

What struck Marsha however- and what had clearly set Sam on edge- was that both women had eyes as black as pitch.

Without thinking, Marsha grabbed Tori's arm in her free hand, stuffing her money back into her purse with the other and began backing away from the cashier.

"Ma'am, aren't you going to pay? Ma'am?"

Marsha's throat tightened so that all she could do was shake her head. Tori whimpered as she was pulled backwards, Sam following along, his pace not changing but clearly agitated. The girl at the cash register simply gaped at the trio as they backed away from her.

Casting around, Marsha spotted a side door beside the play area and made a beeline towards it, all the while praying that they would get out of the restaurant safely.

Dear God don't let me die in a McDonalds, the woman thought as she tugged her daughter and Sam closer to the exit.

With what seemed like an astounding amount of luck, they pushed through the side door and onto the sun-warmed asphalt of the parking lot.

The redhead let out a breath and gripped Tori's hand tightly as she headed straight for her vehicle. She had expected her daughter- still very young- to protest the abrupt exit but the child was thin-lipped and silent as if, she too, sensed the danger they had just narrowly escaped.

After settling Tori into her car seat and helping Sam buckle his seatbelt, Marsha climbed into the driver's seat and revved the engine, almost causing the car to stall.

"Shit," she murmured under her breath, telling herself to calm down, damn it.

Finally, gaining control over her emotions, Marsha pulled out of the parking spot and peeled away from the Golden Arches, glad to put them in her rearview mirror.

"Mommy," Tori spoke up from the back seat about ten minutes of driving, "I'm still hungry."

"I know, baby, I'm sorry," the mother apologized, "We'll stop somewhere soon."

As she drove, Marsha glanced in the rearview mirror at Sam. He seemed to have calmed down- his muscles were not long as tense as steel cables- but his face was pale and there were dark circles standing out beneath his eyes.

The woman couldn't help but think it was one hell of a coincidence that a couple of demons should wander into the same Mickey D's they were in, craving some burgers and chicken nuggets.

Were they after you? Marsha directed the thought at the young man sitting in the seat behind her but didn't speak the question out loud.

It was better not to know, anyway. Best just to put as much distance between those monsters and her baby girl as possible.

Marsha shuddered as she all-too vividly recalled their last run-in with a demon and hoped that there was not a repeat of that experience in their near future.

W

Sam was visibly at ease as Marsha led him and Tori into the sit-in restaurant called 'Auntie Joyce's Family Style Diner' and waited to be seated.

"Hi, welcome to Auntie Joyce's Family Style Diner," a perky young hostess with bouncy brown hair and chocolate-coloured eyes greeted them, "Where everyone is family."

Marsha gave the girl a somewhat wan smile in response.

"For three?" the hostess asked and Marsha nodded as she picked up two adult menus and one child's menu.

"Table or booth?" the hostess asked as she began walking deeper into the diner.

Marsha glanced quickly at Sam before answering that they would take a booth.

The hostess ushered the trio into a booth and handed out the menus.

"Enjoy," she told them, "Someone will be by to take your orders."

Marsha thanked the girl distractedly and focused on helping her daughter pick something to eat.

"Look Tori, they have cheeseburgers here too," the mother pointed out the option to her daughter in the child's menu.

Once Tori had made her choice- cheeseburger with French fries and a strawberry milkshake- Marsha turned her attention to Sam.

The woman knew that the hunter preferred foods such as salads, soups, sandwiches and wraps over for fast food-esque choices. Now that Marsha felt out of danger of demonic entities and unhurried by the assembly line of customers beneath the Golden Arches, she decided that Sam should be able to enjoy his lunch as much as she and Tori.

"Let's see what we've got here," the redhead said and opened her own menu so that she could look through the options with Sam.

Several minutes later, when their waiter appeared- a thin young man with a shock of orange hair that stuck up if he'd been electrocuted, with pasty skin and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks- walked over to their table, "Welcome to Auntie Joyce's Family Style Restaurant," the young man, who must have still been in high school, greeted them, "My name's Collin. Can I get you anything to start?"

"I think we're all ready to order," Marsha told Collin.

The waiter nodded and took out a notepad and pencil.

"Can we get a kid's cheeseburger with fries and a strawberry milkshake, the Club sandwich with the House salad and a Pepsi, and the Soup and Sandwich of the Day with a Root Beer?"

The waiter wrote all three orders down and promised he'd be back with the drinks in a few minutes.

Marsha sat back against the back of the booth and rested a hand on the back of Tori's head.

"How're you feeling, honey?"

The little girl looked up at her mother and smiled.

Marsha smiled back at her daughter and peered across the table at Sam.

"How are you doing, Sam?"

The young man stared at Marsha for a long moment before he offered a wan smile.

"…Okay…" he said quietly.

The woman sighed; they'd put the danger behind them and now all they had to focus on was a week of Atlantic surf, a nice hotel room and all the New England clam chowder they could eat.

SPN

Bobby slammed the fridge door shut as he grabbed a beer from inside but Dean didn't even flinch. The younger hunter was sitting at the kitchen table, chin propped up on his fist, staring out the window above the sink.

"They've only been gone for a few hours, Son," Bobby said, "Marsha promised to call soon."

"I should have heard from them by now," Dean answered, not taking his gaze away from the window.

"You are not gonna sit at this table for the whole damn week," Bobby told him, "You'll just drive yourself sick with worry."

"Something's going to happen, Bobby," Dean insisted, now meeting the older hunter's gaze, "I just know it is. I can feel it."

The veteran hunter gave him a sympathetic look before taking a swig of beer, "Why don't you come out to the garage and help me with the car I'm working on. It'll take your mind off worrying and Marsha will call before you know it."

Dean looked as though he was about refuse but then he sighed and stood, making his way to the refrigerator himself and grabbing a cold one.

"Maybe you're right," he muttered as he twisted off the lid of the beer bottle and tossed it into the sink, "Maybe I am just getting paranoid."

Bobby nodded, closed-mouthed and headed back out the front door, Dean following right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to leave a Comment or Kudos. Either/or would be much appreciated :)


	30. Chapter Thirty

Marsha sighed and dropped her suitcase onto the floor of the hotel room. Tori released Sam's hand- she had held it in a small viselike grip all the way up to the room- and ran to the first of the two beds in the room.

"Mommy can we have pizza for dinner? Please? Please?" Tori begged as she bounced on the bed.

"All right," Marsha agreed. They could even order in; she was too tired to drive to a restaurant anyway.

"Let me just give Dean a call and let him know we've stopped for the night."

Tori continued to bounce up and down on the bed, her high-pitched voice encouraging Sam to join her, as Marsha took out her cell phone and called Dean.

She had talked to him earlier in the day, after they'd finished eating at Auntie Joyce's- not mentioning the appearance of the two demons- and thought Dean would appreciate the courtesy of a call to let him know they were settling down for the night.

"Marsha, is Sammy all right?" the hunter said as soon as the call connected.

"Sammy's fine," Marsha replied, "We've stopped for the night."

"How's he been doing? Is he eating all right? Is he happy?"

The woman held back the urge to sigh, "Do you want to talk to him?"

"Sure," Dean answered eagerly, "Put him on the phone."

Marsha walked over to the bed where Sam was sitting next to Tori and handed the hunter her cell, "It's Dean, Sweetheart."

Sam reached out for the phone and took it, pressing it to the side of his head, smiling at the sound of Dean's voice.

"Mommy can we watch a movie?" Tori asked and her mother nodded, picking up the television remote and pressing the ON button.

As Marsha channel surfed she kept an ear on the mostly one-sided conversation the Winchester brothers seemed to be having. She could hear the faint murmur of Dean's voice coming from the other end of the phone while Sam gave one-word answers in response.

Marsha smiled and stopped changing the channels when she saw one was showing 'Lilo & Stitch'.

"Here you go, Honey," she said and sat the remote on the television set.

Marsha turned to see Sam holding the cell phone out to her.

"Dean?" She said when she took the device from Sam.

"Still here," the hunter answered, "So you're doing all right?"

"Yeah," Marsha replied, "We're staying in Chicago tonight and then continuing on tomorrow."

"Okay, well, have fun," Dean commented.

"I'll call in the morning before we leave," Marsha promised.

"Have a good night," Dean told her and the redhead said they would.

Immediately after ending the call with Dean, Marsha phoned a well-known pizza place and ordered a large pie.

SPN

"How are they doing?" Bobby asked as Dean hung up the grizzled hunter's kitchen phone.

"Fine," the younger man answered, "Sam said he was having a good time."

Bobby nodded.

"See, there ain't anything to worry about," he told Dean, "Nuthin's happened. They're all having a fine vacation."

The younger man smiled.

Bobby was right; Sam was having a good time. There wasn't anything to be concerned about.

Sighing, Dean just couldn't wait for his brother to come back anyway.

SPN

Sam opened his eyes and stared at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed- its red numbers telling him it was long past midnight- and sat up. In the bed next to his Marsha and Tori slept peacefully.

Climbing from bed quietly, the young man padded in bare feet across the carpet and to the door to the hotel room. Sam remained standing in front of the door for a long moment unsure of what to do before he leaned down and peered through the peephole.

For a minute, the young man saw nothing but then a flash of bright blue hair sent him stumbling back.

"Marsha!" he called, "Marsha!"

Turning around, Sam hurried to the sleeping mother and child, grabbed Marsha by the shoulders and began to shake her violently.

"Wha- What's happening?!" the woman asked upon her rude awakening.

"Marsha," Sam said but then he couldn't seem to speak again and whined in his throat.

"Sam, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Marsha," he said again, and then whined once more.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" Tori asked, leaning up against her mother.

"Sam," Marsha reached out and took hold of Sam by the arms, gently but firmly, "Can you tell me what's bothering you?"

"D'nnn," Sam whimpered, his eyes wide with fear.

"Dean? Do you want to talk to Dean?"

The young man shook his head, "D'mmm."

"Deem?" Marsha frowned.

"Deem," Sam repeated, "Mon."

The redhead's frown suddenly melted into an 'o' of fear and her eyes widened in shock as realization sank in.

"Demon," she hissed and grabbed her child, Tori barely awake.

Without turning on the lights, Marsha, put Tori down, "Get your suitcase, Honey."

The child did as she was asked and hurried to where her case was and grabbed the handle tightly.

"Hurry," Marsha murmured and reached out to touch Tori's shoulder, one hand gripping the handle of her own suitcase.

Standing in front of the door, Marsha shuffled silently forward and turned the locking mechanism.

Slowly, with her breath held, the mother inched open the door and peered out into the hall. There was no one there. Motioning with her hand, she slipped out into the corridor, followed by Tori and then Sam.

Marsha turned to the young man and Sam began walking down the hallway opposite the direction the blue-haired girl had gone.

After walking a few feet, Marsha stopped, "Wait! Here!"

She opened the door to the Emergency Exit and slipped inside, holding the door open to allow Tori and Sam to enter.

Walking down the set of stairs, suit cases thudding dully on the cement, the trio headed towards the lobby and eventually safety. Just as they reached the floor that led to the lobby, a door above them was opened so roughly it slammed against the wall behind it.

"Go!" Marsha nearly shrieked and shoved her daughter through the doorway. Tori had Sam's fingers in her grip and he slipped through quickly after her, Marsha pulling up the rear.

The lobby of the hotel at this time of night was deserted, only one drowsy elderly man at the front desk watched the trio as they dashed towards the sliding doors.

"C'mon Sammy, C'mon," Tori encouraged, trying to get the young man to move faster.

Marsha tore through the sliding doors and into the parking lot, pawing her car keys from her purse as she did so. She had no idea if the demon or demons were still following them and she had no intention of looking behind to check.

Her car beeped and the doors unlocked as she clicked the remote button and she grabbed her daughter, bundling Tori into the vehicle without even bothering to properly settle her into her car seat. Marsha pulled open the driver's door and climbed in, barely allowing Sam time to get into the seat beside Tori before she was turning the key in the ignition.

Marsha turned the steering wheel around as far as it would go as the car listed to the right. She bumped over the cement divider in her rush to exit the parking lot and onto the main road.

Fishing in her purse, the redhead snatched her cell phone and tore her gaze from the road to hit the Speed Dial for Dean's number.

"Marsha? What's wrong? Why are you calling in the middle of the night?"

"Dean, there's a couple of demons after us," Marsha ground out, "They were in the McDonald's and Sam must have sensed them or something in the hotel. We barely got out."

"What? Demons?" Dean, sounding more awake, exclaimed and continued, "Get as far away from that hotel as you can, okay? Then let me know where you stop and I'll come get you."

"Okay," Marsha answered and let out a long breath, "Okay, I can do that."

"These fuckers aren't gonna stop until they get what they want and right now it seems like they want you," Dean continued, "Just get out of sight."

Marsha felt her throat close up and she nodded, her eyes prickling with tears, "I can do th-"

The pickup truck plowed into Marsha's much smaller car, pushing the vehicle ahead of it in a shower of sparks and a squeal of tires.

The truck didn't stop but pushed the car into the front of a shop along the main street, tipping Marsha's vehicle onto its side before the driver of the pickup reversed and sped down the road as though the Devil himself were after him.

SPN

"Marsha? Marsha! Marsha! Hey!" Dean shouted into the phone but all he received was a dial tone.

"Shit," Dean muttered under his breath as he ended the call and stood up, tugging on the jeans he'd been wearing the day before, "Bobby! Bobby, I need your help!"

The hunter stepped out of the room he shared with his brother, staggering a little as he struggled to walk and pull his pants up at the same time.

His friend opened the door to his bedroom and peered blearily out at him, "What in God's name are you hollering about?"

"Sam's in trouble," Dean insisted, "Marsha and Tori, too."

Bobby resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Dean, I told you there's nothing to worry ab-"

"It's demons, Bobby," Dean interrupted, "Demons were after them."

The grizzled hunter frowned, "You sure?"

"Yeah," the younger man nodded, "I wouldn't be talking to you right now if I wasn't."

"Where are they?" Bobby asked.

"Chicago," Dean answered and the older hunter swore under his breath.

"'Gimme a second," Bobby muttered and went back into his room to pull on his day-old clothes for the nine hour drive.

The grizzled hunter was as good as his word and not ten seconds later Bobby exited his room, dressed in oil-smeared jeans, a red and black checkered shirt, his old brown vest and a John Deere baseball cap that had once been bright green but was now a dull grey.

"Let's go," Bobby announced and he and Dean headed downstairs and out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying the story, please leave a Comment or Kudos!


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

Dean gripped the Impala's steering wheel so tightly his hands had gone numb. He knew that once they stopped he'd likely have a hell of a time prying his fingers off the wheel but right then he couldn't have cared less. All that mattered to him was getting to Sam and Marsha and Tori.

As he drove visions of the last demon encounter circled through his mind, threatening, taunting.

Please God let them be okay, Dean prayed to a deity he didn't believe in as he pictured Sam cold and still, in a pool of his own blood on the floor of the Lumberjack Café.

"They're going to be okay, right Bobby?" Dean just had to ask the grizzled hunter, for reassurance.

For a long time Bobby didn't say anything but finally, after what seemed like hours, he spoke: "Of course they are."

W

The drive to Chicago was too long in Dean Winchester's opinion, even going over the posted speed limit.

He had Bobby use Google Maps to find out where Marsha, Sam and Tori had been staying and actually found the scene of the accident before the hotel.

"Holy shit," Dean breathed as he spotted Marsha's small car- now turned back onto its wheels- surrounded by police tape.

Stopping the Impala beside a cruiser, Dean exited the car without turning off the engine and approached the first officer he saw.

"Hey! Excuse me! Hey!" Dean waved to the policeman and caught his attention.

"I'm sorry, Sir, you can't cross the tape-" the cop began but the hunter interrupted.

"My brother was in that car," he said, "I just want to know if he's okay. And the people he was with."

For a moment the police officer said nothing, then he answered Dean, "They were taken to Mercy Hospital."

Without another word, the hunter turned and ran back to the Impala, talking to Bobby as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"I know where they are."

W

Dean pulled into the parking lot of Mercy Hospital and Medical Centre twenty minutes later, stopped the Impala in front of the doors and ran inside, leaving Bobby to find a spot to park. The day was overcast and now it was starting to spit icy pellets of rain against the windows.

The hunter ran up to the faux granite and oak nurses' station, exhausted but for the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream.

"My brother, Sam Winchester, was brought here, I don't know, a few hours ago… He was in a car accident," Dean leaned over the counter towards the middle-aged nurse at the desk as though that would help convey his urgency, "And a woman and her child too. Marsha and Victoria Dodd."

The nurse, nonplussed, nodded and began typing on her keyboard.

"We had three car accident victims come in about three hours ago," she said in an I-deal-with-this-kind-of-thing-all-the-time tone as she typed and stared into the computer screen.

"What relation are the woman and child to you?" she asked and Dean told her that Marsha was his fiancé and that Tori was their daughter without hesitation.

"They are in surgery still," the nurse told him, "Would you please fill out these forms while you wait?"

Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach. They were all in surgery? That was definitely not good.

Turning around to go sit in the waiting room, he spied Bobby heading inside, drenched and frantic-looking.

"Any news?" the baseball cap-wearing hunter asked and Dean shook his head, "Only that they're in surgery."

Bobby's eyes bugged out of his head, "All three of them."

Dean nodded, "Help me fill these out, would you?"

The two hunters made their way to the waiting room and sat down on a couple of padded, navy blue chairs.

Dean grabbed the pen tied to the clipboard the forms were secured to and with a shaking hand began to fill out his brother's medical information.

SPN

"Want a coffee?" Bobby asked Dean and the younger hunter shrugged, staring blindly at the nurse working away at the desk across the waiting room.

Bobby sighed and left the younger man's side. He knew Dean was just beside himself with worry over his brother, and Marsha and Tori, but there wasn't anything he could do to help them right now.

Making his way down the hall, guided by green signs with white lettering which read 'CAFETERIA', Bobby told himself that everything would be all right because he could not bear to think of the alternative.

The cafeteria wasn't as full as Bobby expected, though it wasn't deserted by any means. It was a large, rectangular room with floor-to-ceiling windows along three walls, metal and fake wood chairs and tables scattered around were occupied by a myriad of doctors, nurses, visiting family members and patients who had grown tired of 'hospital' food.

Bobby waited patiently in line to get coffee for himself and Dean, praying that the aftermath of the crash wasn't as bad as it looked.

SPN

"Here, drink this. Something tells me you'll need it."

Dean startled when Bobby shoved a cup of coffee into his line of sight.

Reluctantly, the younger man took the offered beverage and sipped it.

"Do you think the demons Marsha mentioned has something to do with the accident?" Dean asked, glancing at Bobby from the corner of his eye.

"I don't know," the older hunter admitted, "Though it seems likely. Remember when that demon in the transport truck ran you and your brother and Daddy off the road?"

Dean nodded. Although he didn't exactly remember that accident, he vividly recalled what had happened afterwards, with him in a coma and wandering the halls of the hospital practically as a ghost and his father's death.

"What did they want?" Dean asked.

Bobby shrugged, "Just to cause pain and chaos?"

Dean took a sip of his coffee, "But to have followed Sam and the girls all the way here? Seems like a hell of a coincidence if you ask me."

The older hunter noisily slurped some coffee.

Were the demons after them? Dean didn't think it likely; Marsha and Tori were just civilians and Sam was out of commission.

Sighing loudly, Dean put his head in his hand, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Dean Winchester?"

The hunter's head shot up and he spilled his coffee down his arm as he stood, "Is Sammy okay? What about Marsha and Tori?"

The doctor, a short African American man with grey hair and strangely light-coloured eyes spoke, "Your fiancé and daughter are out of surgery and are in recovery. Your brother, however, is still in the operation room."

A small weight was lifted from Dean's shoulders.

"Can I see them?" he asked and the surgeon, introducing himself as Dr. Akenzua, told Dean that he could.

Bobby followed as the doctor and Dean walked down the hallway.

"How bad is it?" the younger hunter asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

"No one was wearing seat belts during the accident," the man warned Dean, "So the injuries are a result of being thrown around in the car."

"Your fiancé has a broken nose, a broken wrist and arm, cracked ribs, a sprained ankle, a pinched nerve in her neck and a concussion," Dr. Akenzua told Dean.

"And Tori?"

"The girl has a bruised liver, a sprained shoulder, cracked ribs and a concussion."

Dean looked at the doctor; surprised that Tori's injuries were not as bad as her mother's. Seeming to read the hunter's mind, Dr. Akenzua explained, "Being so light, the girl was able to withstand much of the impact as she was tossed around the car."

The hunter nodded, "And… Sammy?"

The doctor laid a hand on Dean's shoulder and stopped, "This is where your fiancé and daughter are."

Opening the door, Dr. Akenzua guided Dean and Bobby into the room.

The first thing Dean noticed was that both Marsha and Tori were still unconscious and the second was the amount of tubes and monitors they were hooked up to.

"They're going to okay?" Dean turned to the doctor and asked.

Dr. Akenzua nodded, "They both are expected to make a full recovery."

"What about Sam?" Bobby asked, speaking for the first time since leaving the waiting room.

The doctor closed the door and his light-eyed gaze pinned Dean to the spot.

"As a result of the accident," the doctor began, speaking quietly, "Your brother suffered a fractured skull, a fractured spinal cord, bruised kidneys, a bruised liver, a dislocated shoulder, and cracked ribs."

Dean opened his mouth in shock.

"If he pulls through the surgery," Dr. Akenzua told Dean, "We will have to put him into a medically-induced coma and even then there is no telling for sure if he will recover from his injuries."

"Dean," Bobby spoke up and reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Can we have a moment?" the older hunter asked the doctor. The man nodded, "If you need anything please use a call button to summon a nurse."

Dr. Akenzua closed the door as he left the room. Once the man had exited the room, Bobby pulled out a visitor's chair and pushed Dean into it. The younger hunter leaned forward, head almost between his knees.

"There's still a chance that Sam will come through," Bobby assured the younger man.

Dean looked up sharply, glaring at his friend.

"Didn't you hear what he said, Bobby? A fractured skull and a broken spine? Even if Sam makes it out of surgery, what's it going to be like for him?"

Bobby said nothing. There was nothing he could say.

"This isn't fair," Dean lamented, "Why Sammy? Why him? All the fucking time. Hasn't he gone through enough?"

Even though Dean was glad- over the moon, really- to hear that both Marsha and Tori would be all right eventually, Sam was his brother and the thought of him suffering any more than he already had tore at Dean's heart.

"No," the elder Winchester spoke suddenly, "You know what? Fuck this. I'm not going to sit by and let this happen to Sammy. He doesn't deserve this."

Standing, Dean pushed past Bobby towards the door.

"Dean," the older hunter called, "Son, what are you going to do?"

Dean didn't bother answering but left the room and headed down the hallway. This was bullshit. Sam had never hurt anyone and there was no way he was going to let his brother suffer his injuries for no good reason.

Finding the sign he was looking for, Dean made a beeline for the hospital's chapel. If anyone could help Sam it was Cas and Dean was damned if the angel wasn't going to heal his brother. No more was Castiel going to appear only when he felt like it. Dean didn't really care if the celestial being was busy trying to patch things up in Heaven, he needed to get his feathered ass down here now and fix Sam.

Shoving the door open, the hunter was glad to find the chapel deserted. Sitting down in one of the pews and lifting his gaze to the large wooden cross suspended against the far wall above the alter, Dean began to pray, his anger and sadness fueling his desperate plea for help.

SPN

Bobby sighed heavily and sank down into Dean's vacated chair. He was just as worried about Sam as his brother was but the older hunter feared Dean would do something stupid, something that'd he regret.

Shaking his head, Bobby scratched that thought; Dean wasn't about to leave Sam. He was probably holed-up somewhere quiet, calling on backup to help Sam make it through surgery.

Glancing over at Marsha and Tori, Bobby felt tears well up in his eyes and he thanked God that both mother and daughter had escaped the accident with relatively minor injuries. If only Sam was that lucky.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Bobby settled in for a long wait, telling himself that everything would turn out for the best.

SPN

"Please Cas," Dean muttered, gritting his teeth, "I know you're busy fixing Heaven or whatever, but Sammy needs you, more than ever."

"It's bad this time, Cas," he continued, "He could die or be paralyzed or… or… be a vegetable for the rest of his life… Please, you have to help him. Sam doesn't deserve that, none of it."

"Why are you ignoring me?" Dean snarled, "I don't ask for much, do I? This isn't even for me; it's for Sam. Don't ignore me, man, just don't."

The hunter sat up and turned around in his seat when he heard the chapel door opened. A petite nurse in purple scrubs stood in the doorway.

"Dr. Akenzua sent me to tell you that Sam is out of surgery."

Dean nodded and stood, stretching out his stiffened muscles. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting in the chapel, praying.

Following the nurse, Dean realized that she was leading him to the ICU instead of the hallway where Tori and Marsha were resting. The hunter's throat tightened and his eyes stung with tears.

No, don't cry, Cas is coming, Dean told himself.

The nurse nodded to her colleague on duty as they entered the visitor's area for the ICU and then through the door that led to the room where Sam was laying.

"Sammy," Dean choked and went to his brother's side instantly, reaching out to touch his sibling but held back.

Dr. Akenzua was leaning over the younger Winchester, stethoscope against Sam's chest as he listened to the hunter's heartbeat.

Straightening up, the doctor looked to Dean, his expression grim.

"I will not give you false hope," Dr. Akenzua told him, "There is a high chance your brother will die from his injuries."

Dean nodded, feeling his throat close up with tears.

"And if he does not," the doctor continued, "There is certain to be damage as a result of the skull fracture and broken spine."

Dr. Akenzua left the room to give Dean some privacy. The hunter reached out and took hold of his brother's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Don't worry, Sammy," he whispered, "Cas will be here soon to fix you up. I promise."

W

"I'm so sorry, Dean," Marsha said hoarsely as the hunter hugged her as hard as he dared.

"It wasn't your fault," he told her.

The woman shook her head, "Yes, I should have told you about the demons right away and started back home."

Dean sighed because he didn't know what to say.

"Well, you and Tori are safe now and that's all that matters," he finally told her.

Marsha smiled and turned her head to look lovingly at her daughter who was eating a large bowl of vanilla ice cream a nurse had brought for her.

"Where's Sammy?" Tori asked, mouth smeared with melted ice cream, "Can I go see Sammy?"

"Not right now, baby," Marsha told her, "Later, okay?"

"Sammy's okay though, right? Dean? Mommy, he's okay?"

Now it was Dean's turn to smile, "Yeah, Tori, Sammy's fine."

Dean met Bobby's gaze and the older hunter's expression reflected what the younger was thinking: help isn't coming this time.

The older Winchester stood and said goodnight to Marsha and Tori. He was going to spend the night with his brother. Bobby remained where he was, deciding to keep the two Dodd women company.

"Say hi to Sammy for me!" Tori called before Dean left and the elder Winchester quickly promised he would before she could hear his voice crack.

Damn you, Cas, Dean thought vehemently as he strode down the hallway towards the ICU, where the hell are you?

Dean nodded to the nurse on duty as he stepped into the waiting area and opened the door to Sam's room, stopping in mid-stride at the figures standing at his brother's beside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos, ladies and gents!


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean hissed as he stepped forward, hackles raised at the thought that the nurse sitting at the desk outside had let a couple of strangers into his brother's sickroom.

The two women didn't even turn around. They appeared to be mother and daughter perhaps, for the younger- and shorter- of the two was wearing a sunny yellow top that seemed cut off just below her bust, low-cut acid-wash jeans that from the back revealed a tramp stamp, and sparkly silver flip-flops. Her long blue hair nearly reached the small of her back. The older woman was wearing a cream-coloured blouse, slate grey dress pants and black high-heeled shoes. Her dark blonde hair ended at her jawline.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," Dean spoke up again, "Tell me who you are!"

The girl with blue hair peered over her shoulder at the hunter, smiled, and her eyes turned a solid black.

Dean's hackles instantly raised, "What're you-"

"Relax Stud," the older of the two women interrupted in a bored tone, "We're here to help."

"Help?" Dean spluttered, "How can you help?"

The blue-haired demon grinned but it was her companion who spoke.

"We're here to help heal your brother's injuries."

The hunter frowned, still leery but no longer as tense. If these two had wanted to kill him and Sam they would have done so the second he walked through the door.

"How?" he asked, unable to hide the curiosity in his voice.

If these demons were saying they could fix his brother than who was he to say no? If they could really do what they claimed they could than he wasn't about to stop them, since Cas seemed to be ignoring him.

"How do you think we're able to torture souls in Hell over and over and over again?" the blue-haired demon asked with a smirk.

"We don't like to brag," the blonde demon continued, "But even we have a bit of healing power. Nothing to rival your angel buddies, but enough."

Dean nodded, his mouth suddenly as dry as cotton.

He watched as the blue-haired demon moved to the top of Sam's bed and laid one long-fingered hand on the thick bandaging covering his brother's skull. The blonde demon remained where she was but reached out to touch Sam's chest with a hand tipped in finely manicured nails.

Dean waited with bated breath for something to happen; for Sam to open his eyes, and frowned when nothing happened.

"It's not working," he pointed out.

The blonde demon sighed and rolled her eyes towards her younger friend.

"What do you think would happen if Sam was miraculously healed of all his injuries?" She asked snidely, "Idiot."

"We healed your brother's injuries enough so that he won't wake up as a drooling vegetable," the blonde demon told Dean, "But he's still needs to have a long hospital stay."

"Okay," Dean replied. He knew the demons were right. If Sam suddenly woke up without a scratch there was no doubt he'd wind up in some laboratory and Dean would never see his brother again.

"Why are you doing this?" the hunter asked, "I thought demons hated us."

"Oh we do hate you," the blonde demon assured Dean, "We're doing this for your brother. He saved us."

Dean stared at the two women.

"Your brother stopped Lucifer," the blue-haired demon explained, "We were never in the fan club. We knew what would happen if the Devil was allowed to burn the earth."

"He's an angel," the blonde continued, "We're demons. That doesn't mix well. We'd be just as dead as the humans by the end."

Dean raised a cynical eyebrow.

"No one likes to admit it," the blue-haired demon said, "But if your brother hadn't taken that swan dive, we'd all be dead by now."

"I guess I can believe that," Dean said slowly.

The blue-haired demon grinned at him and both she and her companion turned to leave.

"Why were you following my brother in the first place? That I don't understand," Dean asked. At first he'd thought that maybe the demons had had something to do with the car accident but their actions now kind of punched holes in that theory.

"We wanted his autograph," the blonde demon told Dean sarcastically while her partner giggled and the two left the room, walking right past the nurse on duty as though they were invisible.

The elder Winchester turned to his brother and sat down in the chair beside his bed.

"Who'd have guessed demons would be the ones to help you?" Dean commented, reaching out to pick up his brother's hand, "Cas sure has a lot of explaining to do when he shows up, eh?"

W

"Maybe they knew the accident was going to happen?" Bobby suggested when Dean told him about the demon visit.

The two hunters were sitting in the cafeteria, eating sandwiches and drinking coffee.

"You think?" Dean asked through a mouth of egg salad.

"It's possible," Bobby said.

For a moment both men were silent, eating and drinking, each lost in his own thoughts. They had decided not to tell Marsha about the demons in Sam's hospital room. She wasn't likely to understand and it would just scare her.

"Any idea of when he'll wake up?" Bobby asked Dean and the younger hunter shrugged.

"Dr. Akenzua has him in a coma," he explained, "But I'm hoping that when he comes to check on Sammy next he'll see he doesn't have to keep him that way anymore."

Bobby nodded, taking a sip of coffee.

"All three of 'em were damned lucky not to have been killed."

"Yeah," Dean muttered, thinking about Sam's prospects before the demon visit.

Standing, he crumpled up the paper his sandwich had come in and guzzled down the last of his coffee.

"I'm going to Sammy's room," he told Bobby, "Want to be there when Dr. Akenzua comes back."

"All right," the older hunter said and remained seated, "I'll head over for a visit when I'm done."

SPN

"Look, I just want to know how Sam is doing," Marsha argued with the nurse who was checking her vitals, "My daughter really wants to see him."

"You'll have to talk to Dr. Akenzua," the nurse commented in a way that told Marsha something was really wrong.

"Please," Marsha said, glancing over at Tori sleeping in the bed next to hers.

The nurse followed her gaze and sighed, "Okay, but I really shouldn't say anything. He's not my patient, you know?"

Marsha waited for the nurse to continue.

"He was pretty beat up," she said in a low tone, "Head and spinal injuries. From what I gather it doesn't look good."

Marsha's eyes widened in shock and her mouth hung agape.

"You didn't hear it from me," the nurse said quickly, "I could get in a lot of trouble for telling you."

"Why didn't Dean tell me?" Marsha wondered out loud, feeling betrayed.

SPN

Dean stood out of the way of the doctor as the man examined Sam early the next morning, frowning ever so often as he leaned over his patient, checking his heartbeat with a stethoscope and reading his charts.

"Huh," Dr. Akenzua muttered, "Huh, huh, huh."

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Dr. Akenzua looked up, "Nothing. Your brother's vitals are good. Great, in fact. Brain activity is good, better than it was yesterday after the surgery."

Dean smiled, "Sammy's gonna pull through."

The doctor nodded gravely, "We won't know until he wakes up, of course, the extent of his injuries but it looks as though he is doing a lot better than we at first expected."

"Do you think Sammy could wake up today?" Dean ventured, aware that his brother was still in a medically induced coma.

Dr. Akenzua nodded, muttering nonsense words to himself.

"I'd like to take him for a few tests and hopefully we can get him out of the coma," he told Dean.

"Okay," the hunter agreed readily.

Dr. Akenzua left the room momentarily to speak with the nurse on duty.

Dean moved to stand beside his sibling. Reaching out, he squeezed his brother's hand.

"I'll be back as soon as you're finished with your tests, Sammy," he assured his brother, and left the room so the doctor could get to work.

Heading down the hallway, Dean decided to go check in on Marsha and Tori. The two hunters had rented a room at the motel across the street from the hospital and Bobby had retreated there for some rest shortly after their dinner of sandwiches and coffee in the cafeteria the night before. Dean, though, wasn't going to sleep until he knew Sam was all right.

"Good morning, ladies," Dean announced as he stepped into the hospital room.

"Dean!" Tori greeted enthusiastically.

Marsha glared daggers at him, her uninjured arm crossed over her chest.

"Hey Marsha, did they give you grumpy pills this morning?" Dean asked, making Tori giggle.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the redhead snapped.

Dean stopped in his tracks, taken aback.

"Tell you what?" he asked. Did she find out about the demons?

"Why didn't you tell me how badly Sam was hurt? A spine and head injury? Jesus!"

Dean relaxed, "Marsha, listen-"

"He was my responsibility," the woman interrupted, "I was supposed to protect him."

"Listen-"

"How bad is it, Dean? Tell me, don't sugar coat it," Marsha demanded, "Will he be able to walk? Is there brain damage? What?"

The hunter held up his hands, "Would you let me explain?"

Tearfully, Marsha nodded. Dean sat down on the visitor's chair.

"Yesterday, it was looking pretty bad for Sam," he began, "Dr. Akenzua wasn't sure if Sam would survive, let alone what kind of quality of life he'd have if he did."

A tear slipped down Marsha's face and she struggled not to sob.

"But, uh, I did some praying and got him some help," Dean explained, "Sammy's still hurt but his injuries aren't as bad as they were, you know? He's gonna be okay now."

Marsha used the edge of her blanket to wipe her face.

"Really? You're not lying?"

Dean shook his head, "Scout's honour."

"Who helped?"

"Cas," Dean answered automatically.

"Dean?" Tori's voice spoke up, "Can I see Sammy?"

Peering over his shoulder, Dean smiled, "Later today, okay?"

"Promise?" the little girl asked and Dean nodded.

"I promise."

SPN

"There doesn't seem to be any lasting damage as a result of the skull fracture," Dr. Akenzua told Dean and Bobby once Sam had returned from his tests, "And your brother's spine appears to be healing well; there is a strong chance that he will walk again."

Bobby could feel the relief wash off the younger man in waves.

"We've stopped administering the medicine that was forcing your brother into a coma and he should wake up this afternoon," the doctor told the hunters.

"He will be groggy and sore," he continued, "But don't worry, that is normal and nothing to worry about."

"Thank you, Doctor," Dean said, reaching out to shake the man's hand.

Once Dr. Akenzua left, Dean slumped into the chair beside his brother's bed and idly smoothed Sam's bangs that were sticking out of the bandage on his head.

"Remind me to send a fruit basket to those demon chicks," Dean muttered and Bobby chuckled.

SPN

"C'mon Sammy," Dean murmured quietly, squeezing his sibling's hand, "C'mon, wake up, man."

It was early afternoon and the elder Winchester had had enough of waiting for his brother. He wanted, no, needed to know Sam would be okay and he knew that if only he could look into his brother's eyes he'd know.

Looking up at the sound of the door opening, Dean expected to see Bobby, who had gone off in search of some coffee but instead was surprised to see Tori and her mother. Marsha pushed herself forward in a wheelchair, her daughter standing on the side of the chair where her injured arm lay across her lap, helping to push her mother forward.

"What are you doing here? You should be in your room," Dean said as Marsha rolled the chair up to Sam's bed.

"Tori was getting anxious to see Sam," the woman explained, "And I was getting a little stir crazy."

The little girl left her mother's side and stood by Sam's bed.

"Sammy? Sammy, wake up," Tori reached out with one hand- the other was in a sling for her sprained shoulder- and pushed on the young man through the blankets.

"He will, Sweetie," Marsha told her daughter.

Tori ignored her and grabbed the blanket in her fist, struggling to climb up onto the mattress.

"Hold on," Dean said and carefully picked the child up, sitting her down on the bed beside Sam.

Tori leaned down as far as her cracked ribs would allow and whispered to her friend.

"Wake up, Sammy. It's okay now. Time to wake up."

The adults in the room watched in amazement as slowly the hunter's green eyes opened to slits and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to leave Kudos or a Comment!


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

"Sammy!" Tori greeted, laughing and laid down beside her friend, curling up against him happily.

Dean smiled, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes and he came forward, "Hey, Sammy, how're you feeling?"

The younger Winchester's eyes rolled up to follow his brother and his smile widened.

"Should probably call Dr. Akenzua," Bobby said, "Let 'im know Sam's awake."

Dean shook his head, "Give him a minute."

"D'n," Sam said, his voice raspy and slowly lifted a hand.

Dean reached out and took his brother's hand, squeezing it tightly.

The younger man jumped when the door to the room opened and the nurse on duty stared at the crowd of visitors.

"This young man needs rest," the nurse informed them, "And she shouldn't be on the bed."

"Please," Marsha said, "We didn't think he would make it. Just give us a few more minutes."

The nurse pursed her lips but nodded, "Five more minutes and then you and your daughter need to go back to your room and rest."

Dean turned his attention back to his sibling.

"I'll stay with you, Sammy," he assured him, "Don't worry. No cranky old nurse will make me leave you."

Sam smiled up at his older brother.

"We should get going before anyone else freaks out," Marsha said, clearly disappointed to leave.

"I'll come with you," Bobby said and gently picked up Tori.

"Bye Sammy," the little girl waved from over the hunter's shoulder, "See you later."

With one hand, Bobby helped push Marsha's wheelchair towards the door.

"Don't forget to let Dr. Akenzua know Sam's awake," Bobby reminded Dean.

"If the nurse hasn't already done it," Marsha added.

"I'll come by later," Dean told the woman as she, her daughter and Bobby left.

Carefully, Dean sat down on the edge of the mattress beside his sibling. The love in Sam's gaze made Dean want to cry like a little kid.

"How're you doing?" he asked and gently rubbed his brother's forehead beneath the bandages.

"D'n," Sam said and looked up at his brother again, "D'n… want to… go home… please?"

"Soon, Sammy," Dean promised and turned around when the door opened and Dr. Akenzua stepped inside.

"Oh good," the doctor smiled, his light eyes crinkling, "Good, good, good."

Moving forward, the man took a small flashlight from the pocket of his white coat, "May I?"

Dean nodded and slid off the mattress.

Dr. Akenzua quickly shone the light into Sam's eyes.

"Pupils dilating normally," the doctor commented then moved down to the end of the bed and drew back the blankets.

Reaching down, Dr. Akenzua picked up one of Sam's feet.

"Let us see if he has feeling in his legs," Dr. Akenzua said and asked Sam to wiggle his toes if he could.

Sam just stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. Dean, thinking maybe it was because a stranger was talking to him, asked Sam to do the same thing.

The hunter just stared.

"Hm," the doctor lowered Sam's foot and pulled the blankets back up, "I'd like to do some testing again now that he is awake. It will give a better idea of where your brother is right now."

Dean nodded, "Sure."

Then, to his brother he said, "You're gonna go with Dr. Akenzua for a little while, Sammy. But I'll be here when you come back okay? Don't be scared, he's a really nice guy."

Sam didn't look too happy with the arrangement and reached out to his brother, "D'n."

"You'll be okay," Dean assured him, "I promise."

Dr. Akenzua looked from Dean to Sam and back again.

"Would you like to come with your brother? You could wait outside but at least he would know you were nearby and maybe that would help," the doctor suggested and Dean smiled.

"I'd like that."

W

Dean listened with a grave expression as Dr. Akenzua told him the results of the tests he'd done with Sam two and a half hours later.

"There doesn't seem to be any lasting damage from the skull fracture," the doctor told him, "But you will still need to be aware of head trauma and if he begins to have seizures take him to a hospital at once."

Dean nodded, "So stay away from Peewee baseball games. Got it."

The doctor didn't even smile and the joke fell flat. Not that Dean felt like joking anyway.

"There is very little feeling in your brother's feet and legs, which is worrisome," Dr. Akenzua said, "So I would like to keep him here and have a physical therapist start to work with him and see if we can increase the feeling in his lower extremities as his spine heals."

"The good thing," Dr. Akenzua continued, not all doom and gloom, "is that your brother has full control of his upper body and his arms and hands."

"How long do you think he'll have to stay here?" Dean asked.

"A month to start with," the doctor said, "Longer if Sam needs more physical therapy."

Dean nodded and sighed.

Dr. Akenzua looked at the hunter with a sympathetic expression.

"Your brother is in good hands," he told Dean, "I will do all that I can to help him walk again."

SPN

"I want to stay with Sammy!" Tori argued with Marsha, arms folded over her small chest.

"I know, Honey," her mother sighed, "But the doctor says we can go home."

Three days had passed since they had been in the car accident and their doctor had given them the go-ahead to return to Sioux Falls as long as they both took it easy and relaxed.

Bobby had offered to drive them back home since Marsha couldn't with her broken arm and would stay in Sioux Falls to help them both out until she had healed enough.

"Sammy will be home soon and then you two can play together," the older hunter assured the little girl, "But right now he needs to stay at the hospital."

"Hey," Dean spoke up, "Why don't you call my cell phone every night so you and Sammy can talk? Sound like a plan?"

Tori pouted for a moment before she nodded.

"Okay," she said, "I'll call all the time!"

Marsha smiled and laid her uninjured hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"We should get going, Tori, and let Sam rest."

The child nodded but moved forward, approaching the hospital bed and leaning forward. Dean, knowing what she planned, picked the girl up so she could kiss his brother's cheek.

"Bye Sammy," Tori waved as Dean sat her back down on the floor, "See you soon."

Backing away, she took her mother's hand in one of hers and Bobby's in the other and left the ICU room. Unaware that it would be a long time before she saw Sam again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments are Love!


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

They weren't able to start a rehab program for Sam right away. Dr. Akenzua wanted to make sure the younger Winchester's spinal cord was healed more, all the while checking Sam's sense of feeling in his lower extremities. Dean didn't hear back from Cas at all and decided that if the angel wanted to be like that then he couldn't do anything about it. Besides, Dean reasoned, Cas had his own shit to deal with in Heaven or whatever and anyway, those two demons had fixed Sam up well enough that he could recover.

Eight weeks after the car accident, Dean rolled Sam's wheelchair into the Physio Room and met the therapist for the first time.

Sam's physiotherapist was a middle-aged woman named Lynda, with long platinum blonde hair always pulled up into a ponytail, expressive grey eyes and muscles that would put Dean's to shame.

At first Dean was nervous about Lynda, aware that many therapists could be hard asses- because they had to be- but Lynda had a knack for knowing just what her patients needed and actually recruited Dean to help with Sam's rehabilitation.

W

"Okay Sam," Lynda said, "Let's see where we are."

The young man blinked up at the physical therapist from his wheelchair.

"It's all right, Sammy," Dean assured his brother, laying a hand on his sibling's shoulder, "She won't bite. At least I hope not."

Lynda laughed and shook her head.

"Dean, if you'll bring Sam's wheelchair over here," she instructed, pointing to two parallel bars in the middle of the floor with a rubbery mat sitting between them for traction.

"Park the chair and hit the brakes right here," Lynda said, holding onto one end of one of the bars.

Dean nodded as did as the therapist asked. The bars weren't very long, they took up probably about two meters of space in the room but Sam didn't look like he'd be able to walk that far on his own, even using them for support.

The bandages for the skull fracture had long since been removed but Sam now had a shaved patch on his head where the hair was still very short, and a visible scar where the surgeons had worked to repair the damage. Sam's dislocated shoulder had healed and was no longer in a sling, giving him the use of both arms again. Despite the fact that his brother was getting better, Dean knew a hospital stay was hard for Sam; his sibling's face was pale and drawn and he rarely smiled. He just wanted to go back to Sioux Falls.

"Dean, can you put the footrests back?" the therapist asked and the hunter nodded, kneeling down to push the wheelchairs footrests out of his brother's way.

"Sam," Lynda said, making eye contact with the young man and speaking slowly and clearly, "I want you to hold onto the bars and pull yourself up, if you can."

Dean held his breath. Sam blinked up at the physical therapist for a long moment before he raised his arms and grabbed onto the bars on either side of him.

"Good," Lynda praised, "Now, pull yourself up. Take your time."

The elder Winchester couldn't help but smile as slowly, almost painfully, Sam started to pull himself up. Dean could see it wasn't as easy a feat as it looked, he could see his brother's arms shaking as he struggled to stand on legs that had almost no feeling.

"Keep going," Lynda continued to encourage, "You're doing really well."

Sam ducked his head but managed to stand up, trembling.

Dean grinned, "Way to go, Sammy!"

Sam lifted his head and gave his brother a small smile. Dean just hoped that this wasn't the end of it. Even though his brother was standing- albeit with support- it didn't look too promising. Sam's left foot was turned inwards and the right was curled over on its side in a way that did not look comfortable in the least but Dean supposed his brother didn't feel it anyway.

"Sam, can you lift your right foot for me?" Lynda asked; if her patient could move on his own she wasn't about to do for him what he could by himself. Also, it would help her gauge how much feeling he had in his legs and feet.

The young man looked down at the floor as though willing his limbs to respond to his command. Nothing happened.

Sam looked up at Dean, his face confused.

"D'n," he said quietly.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean assured him, "Try again."

Sam once again tried to lift his right foot but nothing happened.

"All right," Lynda said, "Can you lift your left foot, Sam?"

The younger hunter's face contorted with what looked like pain but he slowly raised his left foot about an inch off the ground.

Lynda nodded and smiled, "Okay, Dean, let's give your brother a rest."

Dean helped settle Sam back into the wheelchair.

"So what does this mean?" the elder brother asked.

"Well, Dr. Akenzua said your brother has feeling in both legs and from what I've seen its better in the left than right. Just because Sam couldn't move his right leg today doesn't mean this is the end, he'll just have to work harder to get that mobility back," Lynda explained, "You knew this wasn't going to be a picnic, right?"

Dean sighed, "Yeah, I just don't know if Sammy does."

Lynda nodded, "You'll be here to help him, though."

"Damn right I will," Dean agreed.

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna push him," the physiotherapist promised, "That's the only way we'll get him walking on his own again."

SPN

Since Sam didn't need to be in the hospital anymore and only returned daily for physio with Lynda, he stayed with Dean in the motel across the street, the same one Bobby had checked into when they'd first arrived in Chicago.

Although it wasn't the best situation, the Winchesters were used to it and made due. After finding out that Sam's medical care could stretch into the weeks or even months, Dean had called Bobby and asked him to bring some of their clothes over.

"How are Tori and Marsha?" Dean had asked his friend when he arrived.

"Oh they miss you," Bobby replied, "Tori misses Sam something fierce. Marsha says she's enjoying school though."

"How's that going?" Dean had wondered, recalling how he and Sam were supposed to be walking the little girl to and from school.

"Marsha found an older lady in her apartment to take Tori back and forth," Bobby had explained.

"Hm," Dean muttered, glancing over to his brother.

Sam was sitting on the end of one of he beds, watching the TV and idly lifting his legs one at a time, slowly at the knees- an exercise Lynda had suggested Sam could do at home- and appeared to be lost in his own world.

"Thanks for the update," Dean had said with a smile, "And the clothes."

"How long do you think yer gonna have to stay?" Bobby asked.

"What, you getting lonely?" Dean had joked and Bobby gave him a scowl.

"I don't know," Dean had admitted, "Until Dr. Akenzua and Lynda say Sam's ready to go."

W

"C'mon Sammy! C'mon, I know you can do it!" Dean encouraged, at the far end of the parallel bars.

Sam, standing at the other end, stared helplessly at his brother. He wanted to walk to Dean but his legs wouldn't move.

"D'n," Sam whimpered.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said, "C'mon."

Slowly, the younger brother lifted his left leg and took a step forward, whimpering, his right foot dragging.

"Lift that right leg, Sam," Lynda, standing at Sam's side, reminded him.

Sam took another step forward with his left leg, paused, then, gritting his teeth, forced his right leg up a couple of centimeters.

"You're doing it, Sammy! Keep going!" Dean almost shouted. He hated seeing his brother in pain but knew it was necessary if he ever wanted Sam to walk again. The younger Winchester had been at this for an hour already and was likely exhausted but Lynda expected Sam to walk down the bars one more time today and that was what she was going to get.

Ducking his head, breathing heavily, Sam took another step, then another and another, each time forcing his right leg to lift at the knee, grinding his teeth in pain.

Finally Sam reached the end of the parallel bars, tired and trembling and sore.

"Go… home now?" he asked Dean and his brother smiled.

"Yeah, Sammy, we'll go back to the motel."

Lynda brought the wheelchair over and the younger Winchester sank into it gratefully.

"He's keeping up with his exercises outside of the hospital?" she asked Dean and he said that Sam was, "I'm making sure of it."

"I know it's not fun," Lynda said, "But Sam is making progress. Even though it might not seem like it."

Dean nodded, "Slow and steady wins the race, eh Sammy?"

Sam didn't even respond. His eyes were closed, his head bowed.

"When is your next appointment with Dr. Akenzua?" Lynda asked.

"Tomorrow morning, actually," Dean replied, "He just wants to see how Sam's doing."

The physical therapist nodded.

"Hey, Lynda," Dean began, "How long do you think it will be until we can get out of here? Permanently, I mean?"

The woman smiled, "That's up to Sam, isn't it?"

Dean frowned and sighed.

"But don't worry," she continued, "In the long run of things, this won't last forever."

W

Six weeks later, while Bobby was visiting, he brought the brothers a letter from Marsha.

"What's this?" Dean asked, taking the envelope from his friend.

Bobby shrugged, "She wouldn't tell me."

Dean frowned and a strange ominous feeling descended on him. Tori and Marsha called them every night, even fourteen weeks in, and neither had seemed nervous, distraught or otherwise upset about anything. Everything seemed to be going well for all intents and purposes; Tori loved her teacher and friends at school and Marsha appeared to be doing well at work.

Tearing open the envelope, Dean quickly read the letter that Marsha had written, lifted his gaze to his brother who was quietly working in one of those 'grown-up' colouring books that were all the rage now because Bobby insisted he do something other than watch TV all day, and then read the letter a second time:

'Dean,

This is hard for me to say I guess that's why I am writing this letter and not talking to you on the phone like a normal person.

I have been doing a lot of thinking since the car accident and I have come to a difficult decision.

Tori and I are leaving Sioux Falls and moving out-of-state. Trust me, this was not an easy decision. I know how much Tori cares for Sam and vice versa.

But Tori is my child and her wellbeing is my first priority.

Although we've become friends, Dean, and I still consider you a friend; I am leaving because I need to keep my daughter safe.

You and your brother just seem to be magnets for trouble, through no fault of your own no doubt, and I cannot risk Tori's life anymore.

I apologize for coming to this decision now, while you and Sam are away but I think it will be best for all of us, in the end.

You have made my daughter very happy in the short time we've known you and we will cherish those memories.

I will ask you not to try and contact Tori or me. We will be gone by the time Bobby gives this letter to you.

Goodbye and good luck,

Marsha'

Dean crumpled the letter up and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket, dialing Marsha's number.

As he did so, Bobby took the letter, smoothed it out and read it himself.

"Come on, Marsha, don't do this," Dean snarled into the phone, "Not now."

"I'm sorry, the number you have called is no longer in service-"

"Why?!" Dean shouted, "Why, godddamn it?!"

Sam, started by his brother's outburst turned around in his seat.

"Did she tell you?" Dean asked Bobby, "Did you know she was doing this?"

The older hunter shook his head, "No, I had no idea."

"She didn't even say anything. We could have talked about it," Dean growled, "What was she thinking?"

Bobby didn't have an answer.

"I'm sorry, Son," he muttered.

"How long was she thinking about doing this?" Dean wondered. Marsha said she'd really planned it since the car accident but he had an idea it had always been in the back of her mind to leave.

"Are you gonna be all right, Dean?" Bobby asked.

The elder Winchester nodded, "I'll be fine, Bobby, I'm a big boy. I'm just worried about Sammy."

Both hunters turned to look at the younger man. Sam's gaze went from his brother to his friend, his expression troubled.

"It's okay, Sam," Dean said automatically, though it wasn't in fact okay.

"What're you gonna tell 'im? When are you gonna tell him?" Bobby asked and Dean shook his head.

"Not now," he told his friend, "Later today."

Bobby nodded and Dean sighed, thinking about the Dodds and realizing that the conversation he'd had with Marsha just last night was the last time he was going to speak with her.

SPN

"Tori?" Sam asked, anticipating his friend's phone call.

Dean glanced at his brother from over his shoulder as he channel surfed.

"Tori?" Sam asked again.

"She's not gonna call, Sammy," Dean grumbled.

The younger man frowned; Tori not call? Impossible, she called every night. Just like she'd promised.

"Dean," Sam said sternly, "Tori."

"Forget it," the older brother insisted, "She's gone. They moved away."

Sam blinked at his brother.

Dean didn't know what he was talking about. Sam waited patiently for the phone call he knew was coming.

W

"You gotta sleep, buddy," Dean said, "You have to see Dr. Akenzua tomorrow for another check-up."

"Tori?" Sam asked.

Dean sighed, "Sam, I told you, man. She's not gonna call."

The younger brother yawned widely and finally gave in. Or at least he lay down but he didn't sleep. Even when Dean was snoring away, Sam stayed awake.

W

"Get up, Sam," Dean's voice cut through the younger man's head like a drill and Sam whimpered.

"We've got to see Dr. Akenzua," Dean continued.

Sam didn't want to see the doctor. He didn't want to do anything. Tori was supposed to call and she didn't call.

"Sam? Sammy, come on, you have to get up."

"No… Tori," Sam muttered into his pillow, "No…"

"We'll be late," Dean told him, "You have to get up. Don't make me push you off this bed."

Why hadn't Tori called? Was something wrong? Did she not like him anymore? Did he do something wrong?

"Okay, Sam, don't say I didn't warn you," Dean said and climbed up onto the bed beside his brother, grabbing hold of Sam's shirt and began pushing him towards the edge of the bed.

"No!" Sam exclaimed, lifting his head from the pillow, "No!"

"You've gotta get up!" Dean snarled angrily.

Sam flailed, legs scissoring, arms jerking wildly.

Then, the younger brother gained control of himself and fought back. Pulling a fist back he punched Dean square in the jaw, causing him to lose his grip but also unbalancing Sam and making him fall of the bed.

"Shit!" Dean swore and scrambled over the mattress, "Sammy! Sammy, you all right?"

The younger man lay curled on his side on the motel carpet, unmoving.

"Damn it," climbing off the bed, Dean swore and rushed to his brother's side.

Sam opened his eyes and glared at his brother.

"Are you hurt?" Dean asked, pulling Sam into a sitting position.

"NO!" Sam shouted and shoved his brother away. Reaching up, he grabbed the mattress and tried to pull himself into a standing position.

"Sam!" Dean moved to his brother's side and took hold of one of his arms, "SAM!"

Sam sank back down onto the floor.

"Would you just listen to me?" Dean asked and reached out; placing his hands on either side of his sibling's face, "Look at me."

"No Tori," Sam muttered, "Why? Why? No Tori."

Dean sighed, "Okay, Sam, I have to tell you this. Tori, she's not going to call again. Ever. And you aren't ever going to see her either."

Sam frowned, trying to piece together his brother's words.

"No… again?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "That's it. No more Tori. No more Marsha."

"Why?"

"Because… uh… because they moved away," Dean answered lamely.

"Tori… don't like Sam?"

"No! No, she still likes you, Sammy," Dean replied quickly, "But they moved away from Sioux Falls so we can't see them."

Sam stared at his brother for a long moment and Dean felt his heart break in two at the sight of tears filling his sibling's eyes.

Dean had no clue just how much his brother understood. Sam was making leaps and bounds mentally, since Cas had rescued him from the Cage but there were still some things that went way over his head.

The older Winchester grabbed his brother in a bone-crushing hug.

"I know, Sammy," Dean murmured, "I miss them too."

Damn you, Marsha, Dean thought, God damn you. You didn't even think about Sam, did you? Not really. I know you didn't.

SPN

Two months later, Sam walked across the physio room unaided. He needed to stop a few times and rest and he had a pronounced limp but he was making great progress.

"I think my work here is done," Lynda said, smiling.

"Really?" Dean asked, surprised.

The therapist nodded, "He should have one more appointment with Dr. Akenzua to be certain but I know I have done all I can."

Dean grinned and hurried across the room to his brother to tell him the good news.

"You're a free man, Sammy!"

The younger man nodded, giving a small smile.

Lynda came forward to shake Dean's hand and Sam's.

"I've enjoyed getting to know the both of you," she told them, "Don't be strangers, okay? Next time you're in Chicago why don't you pop in and say hi?"

Dean said they would although it probably wasn't likely.

"Keep up with your exercises, Sam," Lynda said, "Dean, make sure he does them. I don't want to see you two here again."

"You won't," the elder Winchester promised.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean put an arm around his sibling's shoulders, "Let's go call Bobby and tell him the good news."

SPN

Sam peered blearily through the Impala's windshield when he felt the car slow.

"We're here, Sammy," Dean said and the young man smiled at the sight of Bobby's house.

"Boy, it feels like we haven't been here in ages," Dean commented and parked the Chevy. He cut the engine but made no move to get out of the car.

"You okay, Sammy?"

The younger man looked over at his brother and offered a small smile.

"I know, I miss them too," Dean muttered and opened the car door.

"Give me a second and I'll help you," Dean said but Sam was already opening his own door, sticking his feet out, and grabbing onto the top of the side window to help give himself leverage to stand.

"I do it," Sam told him as he rounded the front of the car.

Dean smiled, "Yeah, Sammy, you can do it. You can do anything you want to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a physical therapist and only know some of the exercises they use for patients from television, movies or books I've read. If I have made any glaring errors in this chapter, I apologize.
> 
> We have one more chapter to go, ladies and gents. So please join me for the finale!


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Tori smiled at her mother from where she sat in the crowd, surrounded by other parents watching on as their own children graduated.

The afternoon was bright and warm, a perfect day for an outdoor convocation- especially since everyone warned there would be rain- and all the graduates were sweating in their robes and square hats.

Tori listened as the Valedictorian spoke about all the great times he had had in high school, all the friends he'd made, the adventures he'd been on and the journey that awaited him and the rest of the graduating class as they moved on to bigger and better things.

"Thank you for that heartwarming speech, Justin. I'd now like to the graduates to come up when they hear their name to receive their diploma," Principal Mueller said and began to alphabetically call out students' names.

Parents and friends clapped and cheered as one by one the students came up to receive their awards.

"Victoria Dodd," Principal Mueller announced and Tori stood up, grinning broadly.

From the audience, Marsha waved to her daughter and brought a camera to her face to take a photo.

Tori took her diploma from the principal and than hugged the woman who had been instrumental in helping her get her scholarship.

Returning to her seat, Tori waited until the rest of her cohort had their diplomas before they were all released to mingle among friends and family and enjoy some refreshments set out by the Graduation Committee.

"Mom!" Tori called and hurried to her mother, one hand on her hat so she wouldn't lose it.

"I'm so proud of you, Tori," Marsha said and hugged her daughter tightly.

"Jenny and Cameron and I were thinking we'd go out to the Bluff tonight to cele-" Tori began but stopped when she caught sight of a familiar face from over her mother's shoulder.

"Oh my God," Tori breathed, blue eyes wide, "It can't be."

Frowning, Marsha turned around to see who her daughter was looking at.

"Sammy?" Tori said, then, "SAMMY!"

The teen ran forward, her hat flying off and her strawberry-blonde hair flowing out behind her as she raced to her old friend.

"Sammy!" Tori reached out and grabbed Sam by the arms, staring into his face.

He was older, of course, his face lined, his chestnut hair starting to show grey at the temples with the odd white strand among the dark brown hairs but it was him.

"Sammy," Tori pulled the man towards her and hugged him fiercely.

"How did you find me?" she asked, "Is Dean here? When did you get here?"

Sam's green eyes grew moist and he looked down at his friend.

"Tori," he said quietly and the girl felt her own eyes prick with tears.

"I didn't want to leave," she said, "Didn't mean to leave, but Mom…"

"Tori," Marsha said, not cruelly and the teen turned.

"Look who's here, Mom," she said, "Sam came to see me graduate."

Marsha, her face carefully expressionless, nodded.

"Where's Dean, Sam?" Tori asked.

As if on cue, the older Winchester appeared, mouth full of hors d'oeuvres and another one in each hand.

"Hey Sammy, you gotta tries this little pie things, they're delicious," Dean spoke to his brother through a mouthful before he saw who his sibling was with and swallowed.

"Didn't you grow up to be pretty," he told Tori.

"That's my daughter," Marsha said warningly and Dean turned his hazel eyes to her.

"How'd you find us?" the redhead asked.

"We're hunters, remember? We can find anything and anyone who doesn't want to be found," Dean told her not unkindly.

They were both silent for a moment before Tori spoke up.

"I got a scholarship," she informed the Winchesters, "A full ride to Harvard."

Dean looked surprised, "Wow, way to go, kiddo! That's awesome! You know Sammy had a full ride to Stanford, back in the day."

Tori smiled.

"Okay, you've seen Tori, you've talked to her," Marsha interrupted, "Now I'll ask you to leave. I'd like to spend some time with my daughter."

Dean frowned and stepped right up to Marsha.

"Since when did you become such a bitch?"

The redhead stared at Dean in disbelief.

"No one asked you to come! No one wanted you here!"

"Mom, stop!" Tori snapped, "They're not doing anything!"

"I don't understand it," Dean told Marsha, "Everything was fine until the car accident. Oh, and Sam's doing much better, by the way, thanks for asking."

"You need to leave," Marsha warned.

"We haven't seen Tori in years," Dean said, "How many years, Sammy?"

"Thirteen," the younger Winchester said quietly.

"That's right," Dean agreed, "So we'll leave when we feel like leaving."

"You…" Marsha's face grew red with anger.

"Mom, stop it, you're acting like they're gonna blow up the whole damn party! They're not dangerous! You're just paranoid!" Tori argued.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" the redhead snapped.

"You want to know something? Something I never told anybody," Tori asked, her own face flushed.

"That night," she continued, "When we were running away from those demons and none of us had our seatbelts. You want to know how I managed to come out pretty much okay? It was because of Sam. He saw the pickup coming and he grabbed me. He held onto me and shielded me with his body so I wouldn't go flying through the goddamn window!"

Marsha's mouth hung open.

"You… how could you even know that? You were too young," she stammered.

Tori crossed her arms over her chest.

The redhead stared at the younger Winchester; her daughter could see the wheels turning in her head.

"Did you know that?" Marsha asked Dean and he shook his head, "I had no idea."

"I don't know why you made us leave," Tori said sadly, "Sam and Dean aren't dangerous."

Marsha put a hand to her mouth, her blue eyes welling with tears.

"Oh God," she murmured, "I've been so stupid. Can you forgive me for being an idiot?"

Dean, unsmiling said, "I forgave you a long time ago, Marsha because I was tired of being angry with you."

The redhead broke down in tears. Tori stepped up to Sam and took his arm, "C'mon, let's get something to eat."

Dean, approached Marsha and dug a Kleenex out of his pocket.

"I wasn't thinking right," she sobbed.

"You don't need to explain," he told her and Marsha shook her head.

"Can we start over?" she asked tentatively, "Please?"

Dean smiled.

W

Tori walked beside Sam, slowly, hardly noticing the hunter's limp.

Sighing, she rested her head against his arm and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a final comment or kudos!   
> Thanks to everyone who commented or left a kudos. Your support is appreciated!


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